Teenage Mutant Ninja Kneazles
by Manatocfox
Summary: Growing up as a Kneazle is tricky, especially when you realize you might be human, too. Add in posessed professors, sinister snakes, and more detentions than he can count, and Harry's Hogwarts career has certainly been memorable. What will he do when he faces his biggest challenge yet? Being a teenager isn't easy no matter what species you are. Sequel to 'Growing Up Kneazle'
1. Felony is Such an Americanism

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA KNEAZLES:

Ch1: Felony is such an Americanism

Arabella stared without blinking at the newly installed television in the bakery in town. She'd merely gone to pick up a loaf of bread for dinner, but had ended up with her eyes glued to the wretched box as she watched the most dramatic news story unfold in real time.

It seemed that a group of young hooligans had managed to commandeer a tan Volvo; one that looked suspiciously like the car that Arabella had leant to Molly for the day to pick up the children from the station. She couldn't be quite sure, until the camera from the helicopter zoomed in on a medium-sized boy with messy black hair, who had climbed out onto the roof of the vehicle and was now making terribly rude gestures at the pursuing police vehicles. The glimpses of red hair from inside the car confirmed it. Molly was going to have kittens, Arabella thought. A moment later, the boy she was sure was Harry, threw something and the entire roadway was near instantly engulfed in a thick grey smoke.

When the smoke cleared a minute later, the car was nowhere to be seen. Arabella sighed, finally paid for her bread and began the walk home, trying to think how she was going to tell Sebastian that his favourite not-nephew had committed another arrestable offence. She shuddered involuntarily. When would the boy learn a sense of the law? She prayed once again that she wouldn't see her ward end up in Azkaban.

As it turned out, Arabella didn't have to say anything as it seemed Molly had arrived at the house with Percy, and had informed her uncle of at least the fact that the boy had stolen the car. As Molly was just finishing up, the squealing of tires could be heard as the wanted Volvo skidded to a stop.

"That was so wicked! I can't believe Arabella didn't tell me there was an invisibility booster installed," Harry yelled. Arabella's eyebrows shot up in silent accusation at her brother. She certainly hadn't put an invisibility booster on the car. "Ron, we're home. Ron, wake up!" Harry continued yelling. The occupants of the house were still as they watched and listened to the chaos that was just deposited outside the door.

Harry wrenched open the rear door of the car and Ron tumbled gracelessly to the pavement. "OW! Whadja-do-that-fer" Ron mumbled incoherently, trying his best to wake up.

"Ron, you can't possibly tell me that you managed to sleep through that entire thing, can you?" Fred asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"Why not? It was just Harry driving a car. Not like we were being hunted by dark wizards, fighting massive snakes, or trying to outrun Muggle Please-men."

"Ron… we were outrunning Please-men," George informed him. "There were sirens, and Harry was driving like a drunken sailor."

"At least until he climbed out the window and let Ginny drive," Fred amended.

"Oh no, mates, I must have really just been knackered," Ron shrugged. "Why were we running from the Please-men, anyway?"

"That is a very good question, Ron. It is certainly something I'm going to have to speak with Harry about," Sebastian called out. "Now, you lot get home. I have some things to discuss with the little car thief, here." Even Harry recognised the sure-fire signs of an impending parental lecture, and so he shuffled into the house slightly less euphoric than he had arrived.

When he passed Mum Weasley, she merely shot him a look of utter disappointment. She didn't appear to be too angry with him, though, so he supposed that was one small victory. Harry walked into the familiar living room, removed his trousers and sat cross-legged on the large squishy armchair that Mum preferred when she was nursing a new litter of kittens.

"Why did you remove your trousers, Harry?" Sebastian asked, with a weary note clearly evident in his voice.

"It is kind of warm, Sebastian. I don't like clothes that much anyway."

"Well, I didn't bring you here to discuss your clothing habits, boy. I hope you understand what, exactly, you've done with Arabella's car."

Harry looked at the older man, confused. "I drove it and we ran away from some bad men. Was there something I missed?"

"Harry, you stole it."

"I borrowed it with liberal intentions, Uncle. I did bring it back."

"Firstly, that's semantics. Secondly, calling me Uncle is not going to butter your way out of the fact that you committed a felony."

Harry stared, perplexed. "What's a felony?"

"It's a… well… it's an Americanism-thing for something bad."

"So since we're in Ottery Saint Catchpole, that means I'm not a felon," Harry retorted.

"Listen, Harry. You stole Arabella's car. Which, in and of itself, I can understand. I stole my father's car to go for a joyride nine or ten times, myself. However, I did not get caught by the police."

"You mean Please-men."

"What? I don't think…" But Harry interrupted.

"Muggle men in blue uniforms, they're called Please-men. Arthur said so, and he works with Muggles every day, so I should think he knows. Besides, they weren't real please-men anyway."

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked quickly. His mind was already racing with possibilities. Had someone decided on trying to kidnap his ward? Were dark wizards getting cleverer? Was Harry really a nutter? All were distinct possibilities.

"Well, we pulled over, because that's what Fred said we were supposed to do, and when the please-man came up he asked me for a license thingy, but I asked him if we might go. He said no. So I asked him if we _please_ might go. He still said no. I said please a few more times, but he told me no and then said to get out of the car. I knew right then that he was a fake. They didn't respond to please, and I'm quite sure they were going to steal the car from us. To top it all off, Ron was sleeping, what was I supposed to do?" Harry finished his tone clearly exasperated.

"What does Ron sleeping have to do with anything?" Sebastian demanded, throwing his hands up in the air.

Harry raised one eyebrow sceptically, "Have you ever tried to wake him up?"

Sebastian ran his hands over his face once more. "Harry, I've tried my best to teach you right from wrong, and I understand your parents did, too. We aren't always the same on everything, but really, you can't just go flaunting the law as though it doesn't matter."

"I would have paid attention if they were real, Uncle."

"They were real, Harry."

"Then why didn't they respond when I said please?"

"Because they are Police, Harry, not please-men."

Harry stared, perplexed. "I don't understand. Can I go unpack my trunk now? I need to say hello to Mum, Father and the others."

Sebastian waved his hand dismissively. "I suppose. When you get back, you'll have to tell us the whole story of this year. We've only heard pieces from Arthur and when I came to visit you."

Harry nodded vigorously and hopped off the chair. A moment later he was on four legs, speeding towards the corn crib.

"My adopted nephew is a felon," Sebastian muttered.

"Felon is such an American term, brother," Arabella interjected as she entered the room. He didn't do any real harm, not that I'm excusing his behaviour, but perhaps we should wait until he gets into real trouble before worrying."

"Bells, I'm trying to make sure he doesn't get into real trouble. At least not trouble he can't get out of. I don't want the boy in Azkaban."

"I should hardly think that's likely, brother."

"You didn't think it was likely he would steal your car."

"He didn't steal it. It is parked outside. He borrowed it liberally."

"He's getting to you."

"No, it is just so much fun winding you up," Arabella smirked. With that, her brother threw his arms in the air, stood and marched into the kitchen to find something to eat.

'Harry is here!' Several of the younger toms mewed, and at once he was set upon by a dozen of his siblings.

'Let him get his bearings,' Father chided. Harry was released from the cat pile almost at once, and stood up. To his shock he realized he was nearly nose to nose with his father. 'You've grown. You're nearly a full-grown tom.'

Harry began purring involuntarily at the praise. 'Where are Merlin and Agrippa?' Harry asked. His two litter mates were surprisingly absent.

Father gazed at him for a moment, the silence imparting the serious nature and Harry began to fidget. 'Agrippa found a mate. He left a few days before you got back. Merlin came off the worst in a fight with a pack of local dogs.'

'Is he… dead?'

'No, Arabella has him in the house, but he lost an ear, an eye and most of his tail. I don't think he'll be hunting anytime soon.'

'I'm glad he's not dead at least, but Agrippa found a mate? He's too young for that!' Harry protested.

'Not all my kittens take as long to mature as you do, Harry. It was time and she was quite fit. Big powerful paws, wide hips, and the sleekest coat I've seen on any molly besides your mother. He made a right fool out of himself the first time she came on the property, but they got on alright in the end. Which reminds me, my young tom, even as a human you'll be coming into a special time in your life soon. We need to have a talk, tom to tom. '

'Yes, Father,' Harry replied, silently wondering what on earth his dad would want to talk to him about.

'Now, your Mother is waiting in the den with a surprise for you.'

Harry mewed happily and rushed in to see what it could be. He skidded to a halt a paws width away. His dear Mum was lying on her side, with three kittens, their eyes still closed from birth. Kittens weren't new to him, of course. He'd seen several new litters come into the world, but it never ceased to amaze him when they did.

'Welcome home, my little tom.' It was obvious she was still exhausted from the ordeal. 'I tried to ask them to wait, but they were insistent that they be here when you got home.'

Harry chuckled to himself. 'I'm okay with that, Mum. How are they? Does Arabella know, yet?'

'They're as lively as can be expected. Arabella hasn't seen them, yet, but you can tell her if you want.'

'They're beautiful,' Harry marvelled. They were all three mollies, perfect calico triplets. Only their smells marked them as different. 'They all look the same.'

'I know,' Mum replied. 'I think it's a sign. My mother gave birth to my two sisters and me the summer before Isis took her. We all looked the same, too.'

'Mum… what are you talking about? You're still young. I heard Arabella say we could live to be thirty or more.'

The matriarch closed her eyes and lay back once more. 'In a cage or a house we can, but not here in the wild. We live longer because we have a human to protect, but I was not a young mother when you were born, son. I've lived ten or eleven summers since then. When I go, don't be sad. All Kneazles go to sit with our lady.'

'I always pictured you fighting with Bast, Mum.'

'Our lady's warrior guard? You give me too much credit, my boy. Only the bravest and fiercest Kneazles can saunter into battle with Bast to do battle with our lady's enemies.'

'You're the bravest mum I've ever known.'

'Thank you, son, but no more of this sad talk. Tell me, how was the forest this year?'

Harry smiled half-heartedly and lay down on his side. 'That bad?' Mum asked. Harry merely glared and began his story.

oOo

"What are you boys doing up there?" Molly yelled. She was beginning to get unnerved. Harry was spending considerably more time with her twin boys than she was really comfortable with, especially when it got quiet. She was used to the explosions and little bangs and pops that frequently emanated from their room, but she was always worried when things were too quiet.

"They're helping Harry with his potions work, Mum," Ginny said as she bounded down the stairs. "Blimey, what's for breakfast? I'm famished."

Molly shook her head. "You're getting as bad as your brothers, you know that?"

Ginny huffed indignantly, "I am not! I have table manners."

Molly laughed lightly. "And a good thing that is."

"What did Mum Weasley want?" Harry asked Fred.

"Dunno, but I think Ginny took care of it. Now, you want to be careful when adding your crushed beetles to this bit. We've found that if you add them too quickly the whole thing goes sideways."

Harry nodded and focused on following the older boys' instructions. Fred and George had been gracious enough to continue Harry's tutelage of Potions outside of school, provided he helped them with a few of their more basic designs.

"What does this one do, again?"

"This potion is the key ingredient to the smoke bomb you threw when we were speeding home. Now, just a few more counter clockwise stirs… perfect! Now we just let that simmer for a few more minutes and we can take it off the heat. Add a little corn starch and pack it in those small clay jars. Works every time."

Harry beamed at his success. True, he needed more guidance than Hermione would, but he was sure he'd do better when he returned to Snape's dungeon. "These things are brilliant. When do you try and sell them to the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"That's the trick, Harry. We can't try and propose a sale without enough product to let them try it, which we have, but then we'll need the capabilities to make a lot more, quickly. All told, it isn't going to be easy and it isn't going to be cheap. We'd need at least a thousand Galleons to start. Two thousand would be even better. We don't have the money, and no goblin is going to lend a couple school kids two thousand galleons. So, until we can raise the money, we're a bit stuck."

"On the bright side," George continued. "Bill sent us back a couple of the products he tested in Egypt. Seems like all the curse breakers are mad for theJinx-Repelling Cloak and Detection Knut."

"What's a Detection Knut?"

"We charmed a Knut to light up when there is an active ward or jinx in a certain area. Apparently it saved them nearly a whole day on one tomb, because they didn't have to go yard by yard checking for ancient magic. Allowed him to move along smartly and get the treasure out. Bill hasn't told the Goblins how he did it, yet. We think he's angling for a raise first. The rest of his team went nutters for them, apparently. So we might have a bit of a market there."

"Sounds good, mates. Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, Harry. What's up?" Both twins replied in unison.

"Why has your mum been so obliging this summer? It's been three weeks and I've already run through the yard naked twice, blown up your room and lit myself on fire. Yet, she hasn't said a word the whole time. She'll give me disapproving glances now and then, but she never says much."

"If I had to guess, Harry, she feels badly."

"About what?"

"Bloody Hell, Harry, from what Ginny said she cracked you across the face, twice. If you knew our mother like we do, you'd know she _never_ has hit one of us."

"Might have kept us on the straight and narrow, though, so I can't say it's all for the best," Fred joked. Harry merely glared at him.

"Right, well, she cracked you a couple of good ones, didn't she? I heard she tried to apologise at the station, but you stole the car so she couldn't do it then, and apologising isn't something that comes naturally to Mum. I'd say she's trying a little repentance because of what she did, but I wouldn't push it."

"She also recognizes what an outstanding influence you are on us."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so. Truth be told, it was just unnerving me. It isn't mum if she isn't yelling at you or swatting you off windowsills. I thought something bad might have happened to her."

"It really didn't bother you?"

Harry shrugged. "She was right in a way, and it isn't the first time. Try getting picked up by your scruff when you're eight. That's uncomfortable."

"You're one odd bloke, you know that, Harry?"

"So I've been told."

At that moment, the door burst open to expose a breathless Ginny. "Come on, Harry! You told me you keep up with my hunting lessons this summer. We've only been twice in three weeks."

"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on, Sparkplug."

"I wonder how long he'll keep saying that?" Fred whispered none too quietly. Ginny's face flamed bright red, and George punched his brother in the arm.

"That's our sister, you git!" Before the situation could devolve into a total sibling brawl, Harry followed Ginny down the stairs.

"Bye, Mum. Harry and I are going out for a bit."

"Stay close, dears. Don't go any further than Aunt Arabella's house."

"Sure thing, Mum," Ginny called out as she raced out the door. As Harry made to follow her, a strong hand landed on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to face with Molly.

"Do keep an eye on her, will you, Harry?"

"Of course."

"Thank you. Puts my mind at ease. Don't forget, dinner is in three hours."

"Yes, Mum Weasley." With that, Harry sprinted out after the retreating form of his human.

The days became a pattern after that. Mornings were spent training with Sebastian, who had insisted that Harry become as fleet footed on two legs as four, and so he had built a rather large obstacle course in the back yard. Harry would try to run through it as quickly as possible, without losing his balance. After a few warm up laps, Sebastian began shooting non-lethal hexes at the boy, who then had to contend with not being struck as well as not falling. The afternoons were spent hunting with Ginny or helping Fred and George with a potion experiment, and the evenings were for family. Harry tried as best he could to make up the fact that he was gone nine months out of the year and spent a great deal of his time simply recanting tales from his days at Hogwarts to his wide eyed siblings.

Mum was shocked to hear that he'd flown, and Father was mildly concerned about his friendship with a car. 'Motor vehicles can't be trusted. They'll as soon run you down as look at you,' he'd said, but Harry paid him no mind.

Thus it was rather unusual when Ginny came bounding into Harry's morning obstacle course. "Paws! Paws… you… won't… believe… what… dad… got…" she panted.

Bounding off the greased balance beam, the young teen rushed to his friend's side. "What happened, Ginny?"

"Dad got us tickets to the World Cup!"

Harry and Sebastian both looked at each other and shrugged. "Come again, Sparkplug?"

"Paws, you're prat. England is hosting the Quidditch World Cup this year, between Bulgaria and Ireland. Dad got us all tickets!"

"Even me?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, apparently Mum really pushed to make sure you could go."

Sebastian chuckled a little. "Molly, you're not a bad mother," he muttered.

"What was that Uncle S?" Ginny said.

"Nothing, dear. Come on in, I suppose you'll be looking for Ron, next."

"Yes, where is he?"

"The same place he's been for the past month for most of the day, escaping your mother."

Harry rubbed his head thoughtfully, "Truth be told, I haven't seen him much, but we've been so busy I've hardly thought about it. Where is he?"

"With your brother, Merlin, upstairs in the guest room and before you ask, you're finished for today. Lord knows I won't get anything more useful out of you."

Harry nodded and sprinted after his human who had already made a mad dash for the house.

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed. "You'll never guess what Dad just got."

Ron looked up slowly at his sister and with an exaggerated motion put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh…. You'll wake him."

"Wake who, Ron?" Harry asked, as he bounded into the room.

'Me, you inconsiderate arse,' Merlin meowed as he lazily stretched.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now," Ron muttered. "Now what brought you rampaging in here like Goyle with a good case of the clap?"

"Dad got tickets to the World Cup!" Ginny squealed.

"Sweet… oh dear… best dad ever," Ron concluded and then sat back in the armchair and smiled, petting the Kneazle on his lap rather vigorously.

"How long have you been coming up here, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"Since a few days after term ended. I came over to borrow a cup of sugar for Mum and auntie roped me into helping put medicine on this poor sod's ear. Helps to stop the infection. Not that this little bugger appreciated it. Uncle S only found me a month or so ago, but I've been here a little longer than that."

'It hurt you nitwit,' Merlin scoffed. Harry smiled ruefully. He was all too aware that Ron couldn't understand Merlin any better than he could understand Mermish. Ron merely glared at the Kneazle as he dug his claws a little harder than necessary into Ron's leg.

"And you've been hiding here all this time?"

"Hardly hiding, Ginny. We've been spending quite a bit of quality time together. We also go for walks and get out and about. Healers said I need to stay active to help my leg, and this poor bugger can use another set of eyes. Do you think Trelawney would let him in class if I told her he was my third eye? Or maybe my seeing-eye Kneazle?"

'Harry, please tell my human that his jokes are both tasteless and dull.'

"I dunno, I thought they were kind of funny," Harry replied. Merlin merely rolled his eyes and began taking a bath.

"Oi! Don't you bathe at me in that tone," Harry growled.

Both Ginny and Ron were staring at him with extreme scepticism. "What on earth are you talking about, mate?" Ron asked.

"You don't… never mind. Why do you associate with this flea ball again?"

"Well, I figure he and I, we're the same, yeah? We both got hurt by some bad things and we're half of what we were. Together though, we're stronger than that, and we're both survivors. Isn't that right, Merlin?"

Merlin flicked his tail in mild agreement. 'Yes, now if you want to continue surviving you'll see that I get a treat later.'

"Ron, I think your friend wants a treat," Harry observed, mildly.

"You think so? I forget you can talk to them. What does he say?"

"All sorts of things, mate, but you'll have to figure some of that out for yourself," Harry replied.

Ron merely smiled and stood slowly, the metal brace on his leg making a ponderous creaking noise. "Mum said she was going to get some Dervish and Wallbanger's Magical Squeak Remover. That stuff makes all the squeaks go away," Ginny observed.

"I know, but I have to wait until this evening, don't I? I can put up with a little noise until then; I've put up with worse."

Both Harry and Ginny nodded at Ron's sage words. A loud screech and the rapid fluttering of wings ended the impromptu introspective analysis of their feelings. "Pigwidgeon!" Ginny exclaimed.

"I really hate that name," Ron muttered. As much as it pained him to disagree with his human, Harry had to agree. Pigwidgeon was a dumb name, even for prey.

Merlin watched the small owl with interest. 'I think I may keep this human, Harry. He orders takeaway.'

"Ron, your friend wants to eat your owl."

"Damn!" Ron cursed. "You know what, Ginny, keep the bloody bird. I can't do a thing with him and he prefers you anyway."

"Ron, you don't have to do that," Ginny mumbled, shocked at the suddenness of her brother's declaration.

"It isn't like I can have the little bugger around with Merlin, and I can't get the letter off his leg!"

Ginny shook her head, and then grabbed the owl. He immediately stopped hooting and carrying on. She gently untied the letter and then gave firm instructions that he should return to The Burrow.

"What does it say?" Ron asked.

"Nothing much, just that Mum expects us home for dinner in half an hour."

Rising laboriously once more, Ron groaned. "I guess that means we should get going then, doesn't it? You coming, Harry?"

"No, I don't think so. I promised I'd help Mum with dinner tonight. She can't hunt because of the kittens and Dad and a number of the others are investigating the potential of a group of foxes that moved into one of the hedgerows in the next field over. So, a couple of us are all that are left to get moles for tonight."

"Why moles?" Ginny asked, knowing her friend's strong predilection for squirrel and rabbit.

"Mum always asks for mole when she's nursing."

"How are the little fuzzballs doing?" Ron asked.

"The kittens' eyes are open now, and I think Mum will be taking them to meet Arabella soon."

"That's good, but Ginny and I had better be off. Come on, Merlin," Ron called. Merlin merely raised one eyebrow, and gave Ron a steely glare.

Ron returned it equally. "If you want any of George's steak and kidney pie, you'll hop along smartly."

At the word 'steak', Merlin was off the chair and by Ron's side. 'Why didn't you say so in the first place, human?'

"Why not Percy's?" Ginny asked quickly. Ron winked.

"Because, dear sister, the whole family has been picking on Percy since he was old enough to know how to spell the word 'git' and as such has become quite astute to such mundane things as nicking food from his plate. George, on the other hand, is a prankster whom no one has dared to challenge and he never sees it coming. I don't get put next to Percy anymore, anyway. He usually sits between you and Mum. Now come on, there will be food waiting for us when we get there."

Merlin mewed his agreement.

_AN: Thus, dear readers, begins the next installment of Kneazle Harry's life. This chapter has been put up rather quickly due to the fact that GUK has received over 1000 reviews! Thanks to each and everyone. I am asking, politely of course, that if you have a Fanfiction account please leave signed reviews. I want to try and respond to as many as possible, especially any questions you might have. Another huge thank you to all the members of TEAM UPDATE allowing UPDATE MAN to strike quickly. I hope this satisfies._


	2. Family Matters

Ch2 Family Matters

The fireplace roared to life, and a stocky red-head of obvious Weasley descent stepped out, scattering little bits of ash and dragon dung on the hearth rug. "Charlie!" Ginny squealed, as she launched herself at her older brother.

"Oohff!" Charlie exhaled loudly as his sister hit him. Harry merely eyed the scene. Harry hadn't minded Charlie very much, growing up. He was a quiet sort, and had a special way of scratching right behind the left ear that made Harry convinced the Weasley brother was gifted by Isis herself. He was also the least likely to pick on Ginny, which was always a plus.

"Hey, half-pint," Charlie murmured as soon as he had caught his breath and had set his favourite sister on the floor.

"Charlie! I've missed you; you haven't come home for ages, and you can't call me half-pint anymore. I've grown."

"You came to the reserve not two years ago, and you're still a Half-pint of Firewhisky," he retorted.

"Wasn't the same. You never write anymore either," Ginny pouted. If asked, she would say that apart from Ron she loved all her brothers equally. Each had taught her something special. Bill had taught her the Bat-Bogey Hex, Percy had actually been the one to teach her to plait her hair one summer (her mum never could). Fred and George gave her a love of mischief and a healthy disregard for the rules, and Ron was always something special. They had played together and competed like real siblings. They were also the unit that stood up to their older brothers when things got rough. She had Harry for protection, but Ron had taken blame for her on several occasions and it created a special bond that neither would admit under the direst of circumstances

Charlie, though, was her favourite. She tried not to let it show, but Harry knew. He was the one who taught her to ride a broom and would leave the broom shed suspiciously unlocked in the evening. Out of all her brothers, he took her seriously. From her childhood fantasy of marriage to Harry Potter, or her dream of playing Quidditch professionally, he would listen to her and give her encouragement, even when everyone else (Harry excluded of course) would laugh. He was also the only one that seemed to truly understand her need for freedom and the urge to explore the outdoors. That's why it hurt so much when his letters became less and less frequent and after a time it seemed as though she was forgotten. He'd send sketches, of course. Charlie had loved to draw and though his sketches would never end up in the Louvre, she treasured them because it meant he hadn't forgotten about her. She was always a bit jealous of her Mum, though, because with any sketch there was always a note. Nothing particularly long, just the typical 'I'm still alive, your son', but it made Ginny green with envy that he took the time to write their mother when Ginny knew for a fact it had been Mum that Charlie had left for Romania to escape. He'd had several offers closer, even one in Wales, but he told everyone he wanted the best. He'd told Ginny he was tired of being treated like a baby and he felt the only way to prove he wasn't was to move across Europe. She was only grateful he'd already accepted that job when the one in America was offered.

A large part of the reason she detested the dragon reserve so much was the unreasonable feeling that it was that ruddy place that had driven her favourite brother into forgetting his family and most especially her. She supposed she could blame Mum, too, but that wouldn't do any good and it wasn't like Mum had singled him out, was it? So she settled on blaming the place instead. What she didn't know was the envy her mother felt every time Ginny would receive a patiently sketched dragon or scenic view of the reserve. They were a piece of her baby boy's soul and to be so terribly shut out from that hurt the woman more than she could ever say. He tried to appease her, of course, but a simply 'I'm fine Mum' could never do.

Molly didn't think about it too often, but she sometimes had the nagging sensation that the reason her boy left was in no small part because of her. When the feeling hit, she would begin baking something and it would pass in time, because it was never something she wanted to dwell on.

A moment later, Bill exited the Floo as well. Both older brothers had taken a few days off prior to the World Cup to spend time with the family.

"Oh, Bill dear. So nice t see you!" Molly began. "I do wish you'd let me trim that frightful pony tail, though. What do the goblins think about such a cavalier style of dress?"

Bill sighed deeply. "Mum, as long as I bring treasure home, they don't give a rip how I dress. I'm a field man, not stuck behind a desk. With any luck, that's where I'll stay."

Charlie leaned over to his older brother and whispered conspiratorially, "Don't worry, mate, she tried the same thing with me. Tried to explain that I'm perfectly capable of cutting the singed bits out myself."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Except that my style has the witches going mad, and your screams… layabout."

At that, Charlie punched his brother and the two began wrestling. Harry moved slightly in front of Ginny, ready to push her out of danger. The last time her brothers had carried on like this, they ended up breaking the table and blaming it on a bout of accidental magic from Ginny. With as close as she was standing to them, he didn't want them to break his human, too.

A moment later, both men straightened up and seemed to notice Harry for the first time. "Oh, hello then. You must be Harry," Charlie said, somewhat surprised.

Harry nodded and relaxed slightly. He was glad Charlie didn't make a big deal about it. Some people seemed to still think that spanking Voldemort as a kitten should give him accolades beyond measure. Harry couldn't understand it. If they were praising him for his dashing good looks, or hunting prowess, that would be one thing, but holding him aloft for something he didn't remember doing was ludicrous.

"Ginny's told me all about you, of course. I do appreciate you looking out for her, as the rest of our brothers seem wholly incapable," Charlie finished with a mock-sigh.

"Oi, I resent that!" Ron called from the kitchen.

Charlie merely smirked. "Just winding you up a bit, little brother."

"Truth be told, that isn't fair. I couldn't have saved Ginny from Lestrange without Ron's help. I never thought snogging a girl would be such a good distraction, you know?"

"Wait, what's all this, then?" Bill interrupted. Harry turned and locked eyes with the older brother. He had forgotten that Bill was the only one who hadn't known about the incident at the end of last term. He had been in a particularly troublesome tomb for nearly two weeks and both Molly and Arthur had thought it best that he keep his mind on the job. After that, it simply seemed to have slipped their minds. Charlie, on the other hand, had been informed as instantly as capable by Ginny who'd spelled the whole thing out in great detail. It had the two fold effect of guilting Charlie into thinking about moving closer to home to keep a better eye on his siblings (he still remembered the Chamber incident from the previous year) and causing him to disregard any negative opinions he'd ever formed about the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry had saved his favourite sister, and in his eyes, the boy could do no wrong.

"Well… you see," Harry began, but Charlie cut him off.

"I'll explain in a bit, Bill. Come on, we need to get our things upstairs, yeah?"

"You'll explain alright," Bill growled, as he followed his younger brother up the stairs.

The 'thunk… thunk… thunk…' of Ron's brace was the only noise in the house, very suddenly as he joined his sister and friend. "You think Bill's going to melt his cauldron?"

"He'll get over it," Harry replied evenly. Ginny on the other hand wasn't so sure.

"Maybe, Paws, but remember, Bill's used to taking care of things. I think we better all clear out for a bit until we're sure he isn't going to row with Mum and Dad." With that agreed upon, Ron headed out back with Merlin in tow, as Ginny and Harry sped towards the broom shed.

"Blast, it's locked!" Ginny cried as they got there. Harry merely smirked.

"Stand back a bit, Sparkplug," and with that he gave the aging lock a prodigious kick. The rusted metal snapped very suddenly and in another few seconds they had absconded with two brooms and were both airborne.

Upstairs, Bill was fuming. It was bad enough that no one had bothered to tell him when it happened, but he supposed he could understand that. What galled him, however, was that several months later, no one had bothered to inform him of what happened. He had to find out about it through a slip of the tongue. He stared out the window petulantly, when he noticed the same boy they had just been discussing and his baby sister flying about, in a rather complex pattern.

Ginny was laughing and Bill was willing to bet her cheeks were flushed and there was a twinkle in her eye. Bill's sudden suspicion of the whole matter went into overdrive. He'd used the same 'let's go for a fly' bit, himself in his pursuit of multiple members of the fairer sex, and most of the time he'd been rather successful. He let out another involuntary growl.

"Everything okay, Bill?" Charlie asked. He had lived with his older brother long enough to know the signs of an impending volcanic explosion of William Weasley proportions. Of all of them, Bill was the best at shouting after his Mum. As the oldest, he was often put in charge of corralling his younger siblings.

"He fancies her," Bill bluntly stated.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter. Ginny needs to be careful."

"Maybe he does, but I don't think you have to worry about our Half-pint. She can take care of herself when it comes to blokes."

"She shouldn't have to yet. It's our job to look after her, and we haven't been doing a very good job of it."

Charlie shook his head. "She doesn't want us to look after her. She's got friends and things of her own now, Bill. She and Harry have been friends for a couple years now. He saved Fred and George, too, don't forget. Even if he does fancy her, which I very much doubt, there's not guarantee she fancies him. I wouldn't worry too much. "

"Charlie, I love you, mate, but how can you be so dense? Why would a bloke his age hang around a girl a year younger, unless he fancied her? He doesn't spend nearly so much time with Ron, I've noticed."

"There are plenty of reasons. They have been through a lot. That sort of thing tends to firm up friendships. Let's not forget I was friends with Tonks all through school."

"You were friends with her because you thought she'd put in a good word for you with Anna Fletcher and you might get a chance to shag her."

"Not entirely…" Charlie protested weakly.

"Did it work?"

Charlie grinned broadly. "Every horizontal surface, Bill. That's all I'm saying about that."

"Surely not everyone. I mean Snape's desk for example…"

Charlie interrupted. "Did you hear about the first Howler the Twins got? They'd blown up several suits of armour and set off a series of Dungbombs in the ground floor corridor. Snape was distracted for quite a while."

Bill's jaw dropped. "That's… impossible."

"Ah, Anna… she was an adventurous one. I'll have to write Tonks one day and find out what happened to her after we broke up. And nothing is impossible, Bill. Remember that."

All of a sudden, Bill's brain seemed to come to a screeching halt. "Exactly… I'm going to have to have a talk with him then."

"Who?"

"Harry."

"Why?"

"Charlie, if you can shag Anna Fletcher on Snape's desk without getting expelled, then there is every possibility of disturbing things happening between our baby sister and her savior. I aim to ensure he understands the consequences if anything should happen."

"You have possibly the most random brain, brother. I can't say she'll be terribly pleased with your meddling."

"If it keeps her from getting messed about, then I can live with that," Bill finished as he strode purposefully out of the room.

Charlie snorted, and conjured himself a stool. Pulling it close to the window, he sat down to observe his older brother make a complete arse of himself.

Bill had the walk of a man with a purpose. All of his younger siblings recognized his 'big brother' mode and instinctively cleared out of the way. A moment later he was staring at the forms of his baby sister and her potential suitor flying about as though they had no cares in the world. Despite himself, Bill had to admit that Harry was pretty good on his broom. "Harry!" Bill called out. "Could you come down for a moment?"

A second later, Harry had dismounted his broom and was staring at the older man. Ginny was only a moment behind.

"What is it, Bill?" Ginny asked.

"Harry, I was wondering if I could have a word?"

"You seem to be doing just fine," Harry responded. "Does it have to be now? We're a bit busy."

Bill's eyes narrowed in a manner that Harry, in his eagerness to return to the sky, completely missed. "It will only take a minute, Harry."

"Well then, get talking," came the Kneazle-boy's reply.

"Follow me," Bill demanded tersely.

"Now just a second, Bill…" Ginny began, before being cut off.

"Ginny, I'll bring him back in just a minute. It won't take long. If you would, please, Mr. Potter?" Bill finished in a manner that reminded everyone of McGonagall. Harry shrugged and followed Bill as they headed around the side of The Burrow.

Bill abruptly stopped, and only Harry's cat-like reflexes prevented him from ploughing into the man's back. Executing a perfect military about face the Royal Marines would have been proud of, William Weasley, older brother, curse-breaker, and protector of his sister's virtue faced the young challenger.

"What is it you'd like to talk about, then?" Harry asked politely. He'd been working on being polite to things that were bigger than him, after Arabella pointed out that antagonizing dogs, while fun, can often have deleterious effects on one's health, not to mention her sanity.

"Don't mess her about, Harry. Better yet, I'd prefer if you'd not mess with her at all."

Harry's face scrunched up into a picture of confusion. Ginny's brother was speaking in riddles. Sensing his confusion, Bill continued. "I know what blokes your age want from a girl, and let me tell you, laddie buck, that if you've the slightest intention of that, I'll hex your bollix off?"

"Bill, what in Isis' good name are you talking about?" Then, it suddenly hit him. Facing down the intense glare of an irate older brother, Harry fought the irrational fear that Bill did indeed know exactly what he wanted from Ginny. It was a darkly kept fantasy, which he hadn't even told her about.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't pretend with me. A bloke, in a girl's room…" Bill trailed off menacingly and Harry blanched. Bill knew. He didn't know how, or how obvious he'd been, but Bill knew.

"I promise, I won't take it without permission!" Harry yelped. For some odd reason this didn't seem to appease his inquisitor.

"You won't take anything, boy…" Bill snarled. _The nerve of this kid_, Bill thought. Talking about his sister's virtue like it was a nick-knack or one of his mother's off-colour discarded yarn balls from knitting.

"I swear, she wouldn't even notice it was gone, but if you're that insistent I promise to ask first," Harry tried again. This attempt was no more successful than the first, and Harry couldn't understand it. He knew Ginny must be saving it, possibly for just the right occasion, otherwise why would she keep that delicious mustard coloured yarn ball beneath her bed? He'd seen it once, last summer, and had been making plans to abscond with it ever since, but how could her brother know? He didn't think the ball had been under there that long and Bill had been gone for quite some time. To top it all off, he never thought he'd meet a human quite so infatuated with yarn as he was. Not even Cousin McGonagall could be distracted with it for more than a few seconds (the last time he'd tried, he'd ended up in detention for a weekend and she'd confiscated the yarn to boot). He was going on about this bit of string like it was his sister's virtue! Perhaps the problem was that Bill wanted the yarn, too. After all, it was a magnificent specimen. It had the purrfect texture and just the right thickness. Harry would have to move fast, but he was sure he could appease the man before hexing broke out.

"Fine, I tell you what, if it means that much to you, you can have it first."

"WHAT?" Bill bellowed, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Fine, umm… we can share? I'm not sure it's big enough," Harry tried again weakly.

"You… sick… son-of-a…" Bill trailed off, his wand was in hand without his brain realising it. A curse was forming on his lips, and he very well might have, had the voice of his baby sister not broken in.

"Bill! What on earth are you two doing? You're bellowing like a wounded giant."

"Ginny, get in the house," Bill barked.

"No, Bill. What's going on? What are you doing with my friend?"

"Ginny, get in the house. He's no friend of yours! I can understand why Mum didn't want him hanging about. This is undoubtedly the sickest bastard I've ever met."

"Bill, don't talk about Harry like that. He's my friend! I didn't make comments about any of the tarts you were seeing at Hogwarts."

"Ginevra, watch you language."

"You're not Mum, Bill. Stop trying to act like it. You're not Daddy either." Ginny stamped her foot impatiently.

Turning slightly to face her, his wand hand moving off his target for only a moment, Bill's words carried the tone of command. "Ginny, get in the house!"

Harry's mind went from confused at Bill's inquisition, to anger at his treatment of Ginny, to sudden irrational fear as Bill pointed his wand at Harry's human. Visions of a cackling man in front of a campfire flooded his consciousness and Harry leapt forward, his knife coming to the ready. Only luck saved Bill's life as the vicious blade missed his neck by an inch.

"What the…?" Bill yelped.

"You'll not touch her, Lestrange," Harry growled and he charged again. Luckily, part of being a curse-breaker required a certain amount of agility and Bill narrowly avoided another slash.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, and with that he was back at The Burrow. Harry looked around wildly trying to figure out what had just happened, when a strong red jet of light hit him. He crumpled to the ground, not even hearing the 'Stupefy' that had been bellowed.

A second later, it seemed, Harry was staring up at the ceiling of Arabella's house while lying on her sofa. "Ughhh…" he moaned.

"That's certainly one way to describe it," came Sebastian's voice. Turning his head ever so slowly, Harry finally could see both Arthur and Sebastian sitting in stools next to the sofa.

"You have some explaining to do, son," Arthur began. Harry was surprised at the lack of heat in his voice. In retrospect, he had tried to kill the man's oldest son, though at the time he was sure the red-head was Lestrange. Odd how that works, Harry thought.

"I dunno. Bill was interrogating me about a yarn ball, and I thought it might be best if we shared, so I suggested it. Then for no reason, his wand was in his hand and I thought he might be getting ready to hex Ginny when she wouldn't go in the house. Then it gets a bit muddled. Seems like I thought Lestrange was there, but I don't remember him arriving or leaving. Maybe I thought Bill was, but that doesn't make any sense, does it?" Harry's head was pounding and the increasing brain activity wasn't helping matters.

"Harry," Arthur began gently, "What were you and Bill arguing about?"

"A ball of yarn," Harry said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? I mean, he told me he knew what boys my age wanted from a girl. I don't know how he figured it out. I'm not quite sure she remembers it's there."

"What's there?"

"The most glorious ball of yarn. It's mustard coloured and so soft. I can tell just by the look of it. I haven't even touched it yet, but I want to."

Arthur began to frown and he leaned close to his uncle-in-law. "Is this some sort of innuendo these kids are using and I just don't understand?"

Sebastian ceased biting his hand long enough to mutter, "No, Arthur, he really is talking about a ball of yarn." At which point the hand went right back into his mouth to prevent a window shattering guffaw.

"And Bill wanted this yarn?" Arthur continued.

"Well, I suppose he must. He wasn't very pleased when I told him I'd ask first, so I suggested that he could have it first or perhaps we could share. That's when the wand came out," Harry finished.

Arthur stared dumbfounded at the boy in front of him. Molly was in town shopping for dinner, which was why Arthur had come. Now he had the unenviable task of smoothing the whole thing over. It seemed rather like a giant misunderstanding. One thing was for sure, it seemed Bill still hadn't grown out of his protective big brother phase, and, unless Arthur was very much mistaken, Bill owed the young Potter a sincere apology.

"I must be off then, Sebastian. I imagine the whole house is in an uproar at this point. I need to calm things down before Molly gets back."

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, yes, I quite understand. "

After Arthur left, Sebastian's laughter could be contained no longer. He let loose with rib shaking guffaws that had Harry rather confused about the whole thing. "What's so funny?"

"Harry, dear William wasn't trying to get a hand on your yarn, he was trying to warn you off shagging his sister."

"That doesn't make any sense, Uncle."

"Harry, it makes perfect sense to a boy, whom I remember was quite the ball of hormones at your age. He just was looking out for his sister. The more worrisome bit is your flashback."

"How is me thinking that the red-headed git is Lestrange more worrisome than the fact that he thinks I want to shag my human?"

"Harry, I'm willing to bet you do want to shag her."

"Uncle!" Harry scoffed. "It doesn't matter whether I want to or not, I'm not worthy."

"You're the defeater of Voldemort, you rescued her and two of her brothers and you seem to be a darn good friend. What else is there?" Sebastian stared intently at his not-nephew. The boy's hormones would be kicking in any time now, and if they were already in force then it was his duty to make sure Harry kept his trousers on.

Harry stared intently into his adoptive uncle's eyes, willing him to understand. "She's a lion, uncle. A clumsy one, I'll grant you, but I'll never be her equal until I grow up."

"You're right, I suppose. Now, back to this business of you flashback. I'm concerned about you."

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "I'm fine, Uncle, but can we do this later? I'm awfully tired."

Sebastian stared intently at his young charge and then nodded once. "Fine, but make no mistake, we will be discussing this, Harry."

"Whatever you say," came Harry's drowsy reply. One more question suddenly popped into the scattered Kneazle brain. "Uncle, who brought me over here?"

"Charlie did. He stopped Bill from hexing the daylights out of you, too. He just dropped you off and stormed out. Didn't even wait for his dad to follow him in. I'd imagine he and Bill are having a bit of a row right about now. Hopefully there is something for Arthur to go back to. Only so much that magic can repair."

Harry nodded seriously. "Did Bill really think that I want to shag his sister?"

"I'm sure the thought has crossed his mind, but your little mix-up certainly didn't help anything. If you want my advice, I would just try and steer clear of him. I think Arthur can get through, but he's still going to be a bit suspicious. Try to remember, he does want what's best for Ginny, same as you."

Harry nodded glumly. "I suppose so. I don't think she'll thank me very much for trying to kill her oldest brother."

"You let me worry about that."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. He didn't like having other people having to explain his mistakes.

"Least I can do, m'boy. That was the best laugh I've had in ages. I'll just nip along and smooth things out quietly for you."

"Thanks, Sebastian."

"Think nothing of it."

_AN: Chapter 2, and we have a Weasley dust up! This was mostly comedy, but fear not the World Cup is coming soon. I hope you enjoy this and I want to thank everyone for the monumental response to this story. You, my dear readers, are fantastic. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. I'm working on Chapter 3 and hopefully will have that out sooner rather than later. To These Things You Must Return- Manatoc Fox_


	3. The Cup

"Hermione ought to be here soon," Ginny remarked casually. Ron had remarked a few days ago that Hermione would go mad to be able to meet foreign wizards and so, Sebastian had volunteered to give up his ticket to the Quidditch World Cup in the interest of 'young love'. At the mention, Ron went scarlet and began grumbling that he certainly didn't fancy the bushy-haired know-it-all.

At the reminder of her imminent arrival, Ron's face flushed again and he seemed inordinately interested in his breakfast. Ginny merely smirked. She couldn't help but take the mickey out of her brother for his obvious infatuation with Hermione, or for his steadfast denial of it.

'Who's Hermione?' Merlin asked, as he finished half a sausage that Ron had 'accidentally' dropped on the floor.

"Girl we're friends with at school," Harry replied.

'It isn't my pet's mate is it? I thought humans took to that thing a little later than we more sophisticated creatures.'

"No it isn't, and yes they do have a tendency to."

"You know, Harry, I can't decide if it makes me better to pretend you're just talking to yourself, or that you really can understand my Kneazle," Ron muttered.

'It doesn't matter, now hand me another sausage,' Merlin mewed.

"Careful, you'll get fat and then no molly will want you."

As Ron opened his mouth, presumably to make another comment about Harry's uncanny conversation with his cat, the fireplace suddenly roared to life. Molly and Hermione stepped out a moment later and brushed themselves off.

"Ginny, Harry, it's so good to see you!" Hermione exclaimed as she rushed over and gave them both engulfing hugs.

A subtle throat clearing brought Hermione face to face with Ron.

"Erm… Hullo," Ron began.

"Hello, Ron," Hermione continued. The awkwardness so thick you could cut it with a knife.

'I can smell the hormones from here. Would someone please tell them to mate and get it done with?' Merlin grumbled.

'Oi! That's my human you're talking about,' Crookshanks growled.

'Who in the name of Bast's sweet nipples are you?'

"Erm, Crookshanks, this is Merlin, one of my brothers. Merlin, this is Crookshanks, a friend of mine," Harry muttered nervously. To have two toms in the same room was often not a good idea.

'Looks like a pouf to me,' Merlin scoffed.

'Look who's talking, chew toy,' Crookshanks shot back.

'You insolent… Why I ought to…'

'What are you going to do, bash me with your tail stub?' Crookshanks taunted. At that moment, Harry had enough. Picking up both Kneazles by their scruffs, and ignoring their loud protestations he carried them out to the garden.

In a flash he was on four legs himself. 'What did you do that for?' Both of them demanded at once.

'I won't have my friends and family fighting. Mog, this is Merlin's home territory. You're a visitor here and you'll behave as such.' Harry turned to his brother and cuffed him several times about the head. 'Merlin, hasn't mother taught you a damn bit of respect? You didn't chase off that molly that Agrippa ran off with. Crookshanks is my guest and you'll treat him accordingly. Moreover, he is the owner of one of my good human friends and you aren't allowed to go putting bad blood between the humans because their owners can't get along! Now, Crookshanks will be staying in the house with Hermione…'

'Her-meow-ninny? What kind of a name is that?' Merlin wondered aloud.

'It's Hermione,' Harry corrected.

'That's what I said, Her-meow-ninny.'

'No, you haven't got it. Say it with me, Her,'

'Her'

'My'

'Meow'

'onie'

'Ninny. That's what I've been saying, Her-meow-ninny.'

Harry shook his head, 'Never mind. The point here, is that you'll get along or else I'll scruff the both of you. Better yet, I'll have Ginny do it.'

Merlin began rolling with laughter, 'What's that little human going to do? She was nicer than you ever were on two legs.'

'She's a lion now,' Crookshanks interjected.

Merlin stopped laughing at once and shot Harry a pleading look, 'Tell me it isn't true.'

'Why do you think I told you I'd have her do it?'

'Bloody hell…' Merlin mewed. A sudden movement in the background and all three toms whirled about.

'What are they?' Crookshanks asked with amazement.

'Gnomes you daft kitty,' Merlin replied. Harry swatted his head again, none too softly.

'They're garden gnomes, Mog. Humans regard them as a nuisance,' Harry supplied.

'Are they tasty?' Crookshanks asked.

'Horrible, but they're bloody marvellous to chase.'

'Let's go then!' Crookshanks replied enthusiastically.

'You know how to hunt, Fluffy?' Merlin asked.

'Shut it, dead-eye. Now, let's get going.' A minute later, Crookshanks returned with a freshly killed garden gnome. 'Told you. I think I'm going to give it to my human as a reward for her food service preparation. She does make the finest dinner in England, I swear. Apart from the Hogwarts house-elves, of course.'

'Damn, I should have thought of that,' Merlin grumbled.

'There are plenty more,' Crookshanks pointed out reasonably. 'Or, if you prefer take this one. I'll go get another.'

'Are you sure? I don't want to steal your kill…' Merlin trailed off. Harry felt badly for his brother. All three of them knew that the injured Kneazle wouldn't be able to survive on his own. He now lacked the required depth perception for hunting, but Kneazle pride wasn't something easily subdued.

'It's quite alright. If you don't mind, that is. I imagine you have the pleasure of hunting these little buggers every day. Where we live I have to be content with mice.'

'What about moles?'

'Not a decent one around for miles, and forget the squirrels. They're almost as big as we are.'

'Isis forbid! Next you'll be telling me people keep dogs in their homes,' Merlin cried.

'They do! I couldn't believe it either. I knew that dogs came from somewhere, but I had no idea until Hermione and I went home this summer.'

'You make sure to take good care of your Her-meow-ninny, it wouldn't do to let one's staff be attacked by a dog.'

'You as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another gnome to hunt.' With that, Crookshanks stealthily slid into the foliage in the garden to stalk his prey. Harry looked a little confusedly at Merlin.

'What just happened?'

Merlin mewed, 'I believe I just made a friend.'

The next morning Harry was unceremoniously awakened by a loud shout. "Harry!" Ron bellowed. Harry opened one eye and uncurled himself from the ball position he was in.

"What?" Harry grumped. It was far too early for shenanigans.

"Why is there a gnome in my trainers?"

"How'd you notice?"

"Because I stepped on it, that's why! Now, answer the bloody question."

"It's a present, Ron. Merlin left it there for you as a token of appreciation."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. Picking up the dead gnome, Ron flung it out the open window. "Can't believe that bloody cat."

"You know, Ron, you should try a treat a gift with a little more respect."

"I just didn't want it in my trainers, that's all," Ron defended.

"Where else was he supposed to put it?" Harry argued. "There isn't a Christmas tree hanging about."

Ron grunted in disgust. "I don't know, mate, but I'm going to take a shower before everyone else gets in line."

Two hours later the whole family was on their way to find the Portkey that would take them to the World Cup.

"Ron, if you don't hurry up we're going to be late!" Ginny chided. Ron merely grunted at her as he hurried as fast as his leg would allow.

"Why did Merlin want to come along, again?" Ginny whispered to Harry as she waited impatiently for her brother and his Kneazle to catch up to them.

"Because it is bad form to abandon the staff, Ginny, and it seems that my wayward brother has taken yours as his pet," Harry replied grumpily, as he rubbed his head. The early morning wake up still wasn't sitting right.

Ginny snorted with mirth. "My brother as a pet… that's bloody fantastic. I'm glad I'm no one's pet."

'She's yours isn't she, Harry, or were you planning on grabbing her scruff and doing the old horizontal heat dance?' Merlin asked as he glared balefully at Ginny.

"Merlin, shut up. Ginny, please don't insult my brother like that. It isn't his fault he has bad taste in pets."

'Ohhh… it's like that is it, Harry, m'tom? I guess I'll have to pull out the claws.'

"You sure you have any left?"

'I'm so going to spray your shoes, human.'

"I'll get your chair, and mine's bigger," Harry retorted.

"Harry, not to be too much of a bother, but could you stop arguing with my Kneazle and find where the rest of the family has gotten to?"

"We're over here you git!" Rang Charlie's deep bass voice.

The four of them trudged over to find the rest of the Weasley family gathered about a Portkey disguised as an old boot. After receiving precise instructions from Mr. Weasley, Merlin jumped into Ron's arms and they all touched a piece of the boot. A hooking sensation behind the navel accompanied their journey.

When Harry regained his bearings, he was in awe of their surroundings. The forest was huge! He and Merlin both stared in unabashed wonder of the massive trees and the sheer quantity of prey that was likely to abound within their leafy cover. 'Do you think there are dragons in there?' Merlin asked. 'I bet the baby ones are delicious.'

"I don't know, mate," Harry whispered. It felt as though speaking any louder would cause the massive wonderland to disappear like the fog in the morning.

"Harry, what are you looking at?" George asked. "The pitch is behind you." Harry turned around and saw what he supposed everyone else was gawking at.

"Oh, so it is. Where do we go from here?"

"Follow me, Weasleys!" Arthur called, with a wave of his hand. They all dutifully followed the clan head as he led them towards the stadium. Hermione kept asking questions about international relations, the Statute of Secrecy and why so many of the magical folk seemed totally incompetent in regards to blending in as Muggles.

On the last point, Harry had to agree. While he may not have grown up around Muggles, strictly speaking, he had ventured to town frequently enough to know what might be considered normal, and these people definitely weren't.

After watching the proprietor of their campsite get Obliviated, the Weasley contingent made their way over to their assigned spot and began unpacking and setting things up. Harry was amazed at what humans needed their big tents for when he was quite sure that a perfectly good tree would serve everyone just as well, with a magical touch or two to ensure that the general Weasley lack of claws didn't hamper their enjoyment of arboreal snoozing.

After it was set up, Harry stepped slowly inside and quickly felt dizzy. The distinctive odour of numerous prior feline occupants was immediately noticeable.

'I don't know who she is, but I'm in love, Harry', Merlin meowed at the top of his lungs. 'Looooove, I tell you! I can see my little kittens already. I bet she was a calico, don't you? I'd love a bit of calico.'

"Shut up you little blighter," Harry hissed, uncomfortably.

'You aren't partial to calicos? I'd have figured you might be, unless you prefer… lionesses.' Merlin barely dodged the kick Harry sent his way as he stormed out of the tent.

"Bloody… smug, brothers," Harry muttered as he headed to try and find a suitable place to get back into his fur once again. He didn't fancy trying to get any sort of revenge on his brother as a human, but claws against claws were an entirely different manner. A few minutes later, Harry found a suitable tree and after a half second was pelting back across the crowded field towards his campsite, dodging errant feet and overly excitable children the whole way. Perhaps he hadn't thought this through as clearly as he should have.

Harry arrived back and promptly tackled an unsuspecting Merlin to the ground and boxed his ears soundly.

'That'll teach you to poke fun at me!' Harry huffed.

'Bloody hell, Harry. You hit almost as hard as Mum!' Merlin complained, shaking his head.

'That's the point. Though, I don't think anyone can box an ear like Mum does.'

'Hey, who is that man over there talking to our humans?' Merlin growled somewhat protectively.

Harry couldn't quite see and stood to get a better glimpse. 'Merlin, if you're going to have a pet, you'll have to let them do as they want sometimes. If they aren't being directly threatened you can't go jumping at shadows. Sometimes it's often better just to let them figure things out for themselves, unless you happen to know it is incredibly dangerous,' Harry admonished gently, after all, his brother was new to owning a human and it certainly wasn't something father taught much about.

'Oh, right then…' But Merlin was cut off by Harry's incensed growl.

'I remember that bloody dog. He manhandled me the first time I went shopping.'

Merlin looked at him aghast. 'What did you do?'

'Punched him in the nose!'

'Harry, I know you said that we can't fight all our pet's battles, but we can't leave them to the mercy of such a man.' Merlin's fear was confirmed as both he and Harry watched the large man shake Mr. Weasley's hand rather hard and give George a strong slap on the back. Such atrocities neither Kneazle could permit towards their human.

'I agree. I get the left leg, you the right, and we'll each dig a paw into the groin.'

Merlin nodded and with that, both Kneazles shot towards the portly blond man and a second later his girlish screams echoed around the whole campsite.

The upside, according to Ron at least, was that for once he was able to appreciate the dance of pain that inevitably comes from a Kneazle attack to the groin, without actually having to suffer something so traumatic himself. The downside was that Molly had found out about their contact with Ludo Bagman and Percy had been only too willing to tell his mother all about the attempted betting of Fred and George's entire life savings. Needless to say, everyone got an earful and Harry was very heavily considering asking Arthur whether or not he wanted to spend the night in the tree with him.

Despite the inquisition, Ginny and Ron both gave him a little smile to let him know that they, at least, found it funny, even if the adult authorities he'd aggravated did not. The sound of a booming gong and red lanterns flaring to life cut short Molly's rant as Ginny scooped Harry into her arms and the entire family headed towards the pitch.

"Where's Harry?" Molly suddenly exclaimed, as she suddenly realized that one of their number was missing.

"Oh, erm…" Both Ron and Ginny stammered. Ginny unceremoniously dropped her furry friend and Harry scurried quickly behind a convenient tree.

"Back at the tent, Mrs. Weasley, I believe he forgot something," Hermione supplied evenly.

"Well, he better hurry up then. The match is about to start!" At that moment, Harry made his appearance, running quickly back to the group he left only a moment earlier.

"Sorry, Mum Weasley, forgot my clothes," Harry lied quickly.

"Your clothes, dear?" Molly repeated, clearly not quite believing him.

"Erm… yes, well… you see, I do have a tendency to shed them when I get a bit worked up and this is so exciting I just forgot to put them on in the first place."

"I see." And without another word they all followed Arthur into the stadium.

Hermione managed to purchase a pair of Omnioculars, and Ron found a dancing shamrock hat to his liking. Harry felt remarkably let down that there weren't any treats for sale. As they took their seats, Harry gazed in awe at the massive pitch. It was regulation, but the stands were built to hold a hundred-thousand people. Harry kept a wary eye on the various witches and wizards that Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with, just in case one of them turned out to be less than friendly.

"Harry Potter!" exclaimed a rather small, portly man. Harry stood up warily and took a cautious step back as the man approached him with rather more enthusiasm than Harry had ever been comfortable with. "How good of you to come! I do hope you enjoy yourself, today," the small man continued, his hands gesturing in large sweeping motions. Harry did a double check to ensure that he was indeed between the obviously crazed man and his human, and began to slide his left hand back, unobtrusively towards his knife. Harry didn't think his wand would be as effective at so close a range and sticking the highly volatile man in the ribs would certainly diffuse a problem before it began both for himself and the Weasleys.

A moment before his hand was about to come out, dagger drawn, Mr. Weasley's strong hand came down on his shoulder. "Erm, Minister, I don't believe you've been properly introduced," Arthur interrupted.

"Oh, dear heavens, no, I suppose we haven't. Mr. Potter, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic." The Minister extended his hand as he spoke.

"Hello, then," Harry responded, somewhat grumpily. This man acted like he was supposed to know who he was.

Cornelius' face tinged slightly red when the young man in front of him didn't immediately shake his hand. Withdrawing it, he found, only a moment later, something to distract from the social disaster meeting Harry Potter was becoming.

"Ah, Lucius," Fudge immediately turned and greeted the Malfoy family, introducing them to all the special guests in attendance. "And you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay," Fudge continued.

"Dear lord, Arthur, what did you have to sell to get seats in the top box? Surely your house wouldn't fetch that much," Lucius drawled.

Harry was staring hard at the man with an expression that could kill. His hand was itching to do something to remove the smug smile off the blond man's face. When the elder Malfoy's eyes drifted to Hermione, and narrowed slightly, his lip curled with disdain. That was too much for Harry. The fact that Harry somewhere realized that murder in civilized society was in fact illegal, even with very good cause (like trying to kill your human), was all that stopped Harry from having a go at the older man that moment. The open contempt he was showing for one of Harry's dearest friends proved too much, though.

"If you do not remove your eyes from my friend, Mr. Malfoy, I will remove them from your head." Harry's voice came out cool as ice, and had the same chilling effect on the surrounding conversation.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter? If I didn't know better I would think that was a threat." Lucius Malfoy's voice was as hard and cold as ice, but Harry stared grimly back at him.

"If I didn't know better, one might mistake your continued staring for a challenge, Mr. Malfoy. In Kneazle society as well as among Knarls and even certain Hippogriffs, prolonged eye contact such as yours would be recognised as a challenge to fight, and as entertaining as it would be, Hermione knocking the cream out of your saucer is simply more effort that it would be worth."

The entire congregation stared at the defiant youth, and Harry watched the elder Malfoy's hand twitch ominously. The silence was broken by loud laughter.

"I like this vun, Minister. You are Harry Potter, yes?"

Harry nodded at the man addressing him. He was rather tall and skinny, with a thick accent Harry had never heard before. "Last time I checked," Harry replied, still unsure as to who this man was.

"You haff spirit, I like this. Be careful you do not bite more than your mouth can fit."

"Of course, sir."

"Minister Fudge, I would very much like to see the rest, please," the oddly accented man.

"Of… of course!" It seemed that the taller man's sudden grasp of the English language left his shorter counterpart in a bit of a shock as they both hustled off away from both Malfoys and Weasleys.

Lucius settled for one last intense, loathing glare at Harry and led his family to their reserved seats, just far enough out of range that Draco was suitably convinced they wouldn't be contaminated with Mudblood.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered, shooting Draco a contemptuous look of his own.

"Don't worry, Ron. I will personally do something to upset him greatly as soon as we're back at school," Harry confided.

"What would that be?" Ron asked.

"Haven't decided yet, so many possibilities."

"Ohh! They're starting," Ginny squealed as the booming voice of Ludo Bagman came over the speakers announcing the beginning of the match. First out were going to be the mascots, apparently.

The Bulgarian's mascots were out first, and Harry could honestly say he'd never been more confused and afraid simultaneously. He could understand instantly why Ron and seemingly every other male in the area became rather infatuated with the flying Veela creatures. They were gorgeous, but Harry felt his Kneazle sense screaming out 'warning'. The Veela began to dance and as the music got wildly faster, Harry began to become more afraid. He wanted to impress the beautiful women on the field, but the fact that they also paralyzed him with inexplicable fear saved his dignity, but did nothing for his peace of mind. He supposed Ron, sitting next to him and absentmindedly shredding his shamrock hat, only felt the blissful oblivion that attraction to these ladies brought. Harry was glad a moment later when the Irish mascots supplanted the dancing Veela.

Gold began to rain down on the Irish supporters and as Harry scooped some up, he turned to Ginny, "I knew this wasn't as valuable as everyone made it out to be. It just falls from the sky, apparently."

"Paws, I doubt anyone except the Malfoys have seen this much gold in one place before, it's positively brilliant!" Harry merely shrugged. A minute later the match had begun.

The match was much a faster pace than anything Harry had played before, and even Ron, who was trying to keep up with the commentary whilst adding his own, seemed overly impressed.

Harry's attention was quite suddenly grabbed after a particularly nasty foul from the Bulgarians. The Irish mascots had formed a rather rude hand gesture in the air, and the Veela it seemed had transformed. No longer were they gorgeous women dancing, instead vicious and cruel-looking things had taken their place. They now had bird heads with long cruel beaks, and scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders. Harry dropped to one knee, avoiding eye-contact with the horrible creatures.

"Bast, defender of our lady, protect we Kneazles in the face of dogs and cruel hands. Slay the servants of Anubis, and ward off Sirius the fallen one. Help us keep our tails from underfoot and make our coats shiny and sleek. May all kittens, in their time, come to know you. For this and the silent pleas of our heats, we humbly ask your intercession." As soon as he was finished, Harry began again. Only on the third time, Ginny finally shook him.

"Paws, what are you doing? You're missing the match!"

Opening one eye, to look at his human, Harry asked, "Are they gone?"

"They've been put back in their corner. Someone had to slap the referee, though. He got a bit caught up in it all."

"Thank Isis," Harry mumbled and said another quick, silent prayer and sat back down. Another few minutes and it was all over. Ireland had won one-hundred seventy to one-hundred sixty.

"Why did Krum catch the Snitch? He knew they were going to lose," Ron complained.

"He knew his Chasers weren't up to winning," Charlie replied. "He wanted to end it before it became too embarrassing."

Harry could hear the twins grumbling the entire time. It seemed had their gambling endeavour not been interrupted, they would have been on the receiving end of a very nice pay out. It has never been definitively proven whether or not Kneazles can blush, but Harry felt the telltale heat rising in his ears. It was really his fault that it hadn't worked out for them. Harry vowed to find a way to make it better.

_AN: Here is chapter 3. I wish to apologise for the long wait between chapters, but my muse has been on strike as of late and I found this one rather difficult to write without rehashing the book, which you have all read. Another thank you to Silverbirch and his wonderful story 'One of Nine'. If you haven't read it, I encourage you to. It is PoA from the point of view of Crookshanks. Thank you to everyone for sticking with this and for all the great reviews. I am encouraging everyone to please leave a signed review so I can get back to you, especially if it is something more than a 'good job'. If you have something you didn't like about the story, a signed review is even more important, because otherwise we can't discuss it, can we? _


	4. No Good Deed

Ch4. No Good Deed

Harry trotted out of the woods, his prize clutched securely in his jaws. The nighttime was his time. The fire light from an adjoining campsite reflected off his eyes, giving them a momentary supernatural glow. The revelry was winding down, finally, but that wasn't going to help him sleep any easier. As he flopped next to the few remaining coals of the Weasley campfire, his brother ceased bathing long enough to appraise him and his catch.

'Very nice rabbit, but a little early for hunting, don't you think? The humans haven't ceased their humanwauling yet, and you're already thinking about breakfast. Couldn't sleep?' Merlin pressed.

'Takes a bit when I'm in a new place,' Harry shrugged. 'I don't like those tents, they smell like other Kneazles and cabbage. Plus, I don't really trust the people around here. They aren't like back home.'

'How do you figure?'

'Everything just seems so much more sinister. That's why I keep my knife close when I'm a human. Just in case.'

'What about that stick thing?'

'In my shirt, like Sebastian showed me. Makes it so I don't lose a buttock, you know?'

'You're starting to think like a human, brother, but if you're out here hunting won't they wonder where you are? I heard the heard my human's molly talking about sleeping arrangements. It seems they fetched you a human bed.'

'They might, but it won't be the first time I've done something odd.' They were quiet for a few moments, as both devoured their midnight rabbit.

As they sat in companionable silence, the darkness seemed to become ever more oppressive. 'Something's wrong,' Harry muttered.

'I know. It's gotten quiet a bit too suddenly. Kind of like the forest does if there is something big trudging through it.'

Their fears were quickly confirmed when Harry saw a sudden burst of light coming from the east end of the campground. 'What the hell is that?' Merlin squawked.

'Someone just cast a spell, and a big one too. Merlin, can you go check it out. I'm going to rouse our humans and let them know what's going on.'

'Harry, if it's spells then it's a witch or wizard casting them, so we shouldn't have anything to worry about,' Merlin reasoned.

'Merlin, I don't have any time to argue about this. It just doesn't feel right, and besides not all magical folk are as good as Sebastian and Arabella. There are some real rats, too. Just like not all human hands are kind.'

'Fair enough, I'll be back in two shakes of a Centaur's tail.' Harry watched a moment, as Merlin sped off into the darkness and then made his way into the tent on two legs.

"Dad Weasley," Harry called out. "Dad Weasley?"

"Yes, Harry?" came the sleepy voice of the Weasley patriarch.

"There are spells going off on the east end of the campground. Merlin went to go see what's happening, but I thought you should know."

"Bloody hell," Mr. Weasley muttered. "Bloody Ireland supporters can't keep anything under control, can they? Well, let's have a look anyway. Just to make sure. "

As Harry and Arthur exited the tent, an orange and white striped rocket nearly slammed into Harry's leg.

'Isis sexing underpants, Harry! They're dogs with wands. I swear to Bast, Isis and Freyja. Sirius has come back!'

"Merlin, shut up and calm down, what happened?"

'They're these wizards, dressed in funny robes, but they're blowing things up and casting spells at people. They even have these other people up in the air. What's happening, brother?'

"Dad Weasley, we need to get everyone out of here, now," Harry urged.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"Funny blokes in masks are breaking things and heading this way."

Mr. Weasley swore under his breath and drew his wand. "Harry, I want you to get Ron, Ginny, Hermione and the twins and head out of here. Make for the woods. Can you hide there?"

Harry grinned. "No worries, we'll be smoke in the breeze. Come on Merlin, you get Hermione and Ginny, I'll get the boys."

After another minute the assorted Hogwart's students were out of bed and making a hasty dash for the forest.

"I still don't know what's going on," Ginny complained.

"Bad blokes are trying to hurt people," Harry responded.

"Oohff!" Harry heard the wind rapidly escape someone's lungs. Turning, he saw that Ron had fallen, and with Hermione's help was struggling to get back on his feet.

"Hermione!" Ron cried and suddenly pulled the witch to the ground, throwing himself on top. While normally, Harry would have thought that this was a ridiculously bad time to initiate mating, the bright purple jet of light that missed her head by inches assured Harry that Ron deserved whatever mating Hermione was willing to supply.

"Where the hell did that come from?" George asked. Another shimmering blue jet slammed into a tree which immediately burst into flame.

"From those dark wankers over there," Fred cried, pointing at a small knot of robed figures drawing steadily closer. "Now stop jabbering and get Ron and his girlfriend back on their feet and let's get out of here," Fred snapped.

Not a minute later they were nearly to the tree line, when another wayward spell caused them all to duck. "I wish I was older," Ginny grumbled. "I'd teach those sexing gits a thing or two about messing with Weasleys. " As she turned to dodge a fourth wayward curse, Ginny stopped cold. Her eyes went wide and Harry could have sworn he heard a low rumbling emanating from her chest. "Harry! Those are Muggles. Those bastards are torturing Muggles for their own fun."

"Yes, Ginny, but it's going to be us in a moment if we don't get moving."

"Shut it, Fred. Come on Paws, we're going to get them."

"What?" Harry choked. "Erm, Sparkplug, not to put too fine a point on it, but there are twelve or so of those robed sexers out there and it would be you and me. "

"I'm coming too!" Ron huffed.

"Harry, I'm not saying we try and kill them all, but there is a little girl and her family being suspended twenty feet in the air and from the looks of it, the Ministry isn't having any success getting them down."

"Ok, we can get her, but what about the rest of the family, Sparkplug?"

"That's what the Ministry is for," Ginny grinned. "We only need to show them it can be done. Now, let's go!" A moment later a red lioness was streaking across the field towards the masked miscreants and the mayhem they were creating.

"What the bloody…" Fred stammered.

"Ron will explain," Harry shouted just before transforming and tearing after his human, with Merlin hot on his heels.

"Little brother, you do indeed have some explaining to do," George whispered.

"That's fine, but right now Harry and Ginny need us. So I think it's best we give them some," Ron said.

"Are you out of your bloody mind? I heard Dad say those were bloody Death Eaters, some of You-Know-Who's mates. How in the hell are we supposed to do anything?"

"We all battled one of the nastiest ones just a few months ago, George. How hard can this lot be?"

"Ron, not to put too fine a point on it, but you were unconscious for days. I don't think Mum will be so forgiving a second time."

"Are you Gryffindors or not?" Ron challenged. "Our sister and my best mate need our help now. I'm going, even if you aren't." Ron limped quickly towards the prodigious quantity of spell fire.

"Ron, what are you planning?" Hermione asked as she caught up beside him. They were both ducking now, to avoid random spells that had missed their mark.

"I figure that Harry and Ginny will distract them long enough for those nasty folks to drop that bloke and his family. We'll catch them."

"How will we manage to do that?" Fred and George asked simultaneously.

"By using a spell, nitwit. I think _Wengardium Leviosa_ should do the trick. If I can pronounce it correctly. Just a swish and flick, right, Hermione?"

Ron couldn't tell, but he'd swear that the girl next to him blushed a deep red.

Finally, the three Weasleys and one Granger caught up to the trio of felines, who were crouched behind one of the few tents in the area that hadn't been flattened.

"Harry, do you have a plan?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head slowly, no. "Bloody hell, the Ministry isn't even trying to do anything," Ron cursed. Harry and Ginny both nodded, having come to the same conclusion. It seemed that the adult wizards were trying to contain the damage and hold the masked terrors in place, while at the same time trying to avoid doing anything that might endanger the family being tormented twenty feet in the air.

"Alright, here's the plan. Harry, can you and Merlin get close enough to latch onto a hand or two without getting hurt?"

"Merow!"

Ron nodded. "I'm going to take that as a yes. Make them drop their wands. If you can steal them, so much the better. Ginny, see the big bloke on the back? I want you to pounce him… hard. If any of the family drops, Hermione and I will catch them and try and give them a soft landing."

Chuckling darkly, Fred asked, "What would you have us do, general?"

"You're supposed to be taking your NEWTS next year; you've got to know a good curse or two, right? Keep us covered and protect our feline family on their trek. Once this thing gets underway, it should give the Ministry enough time to mop it up, and then we run the hell back to the woods."

"Ron, if they're taken care of, why are we running back to the woods?"

"Because I don't fancy being caught by Mum, now go!"

Harry and Merlin were off like a shot. As big as they were, they were still small enough that no one noticed them tearing towards the robed group like furry missiles of teeth.

'My human has a good mind for hunting, don't you think?' Merlin asked.

'I like it,' Harry replied. 'I'll take the hand, if you get the wand.'

'Done.'

Harry slowed his sprint for a second as he coiled and lunged towards an unwitting hand. The shriek of pain and the salty taste of blood let Harry know his job was done. He released the hand and sprinted away, hot on Merlin's heels, the long thin shape of a wand clearly visible in the striped Kneazle's mouth.

'Without a hitch,' Merlin mewed triumphantly. They both turned in time to see the large form of Ginny pounce the rear most Death Eater… hard. The man crashed to the ground, causing the small boy who had been spinning mercilessly in the air to fall quite suddenly. His fall seemed to arrest after less than a second, and he glided gently towards the ground, well away from his former tormentors. Another of the Death Eaters crumpled to the ground after a red bolt struck him squarely on the chest. A faint _Stupefy_ could be heard from the direction Harry had just run from.

Ginny let out a roar of triumph, which shocked the entire gathering, Ministry officials and ne'er do-wells alike, and it was with only the luck of Freyja, (the first and most magical of all Kneazles) that she managed to avoid major damage as she found herself quite suddenly running for her life.

Ginny, was mentally cursing herself for her recklessness. She'd led her family and friends on an insane adventure, and hadn't they already had enough of those, but when she'd seen the poor Muggle family being tormented by the dark wizard group something snapped. She had to do something, even if that something wasn't fully established in her mind yet. Luckily her brother seemed to have found a new sort of maturity and at least a hint of a brain, which allowed them to rescue at least one of the poor family.

"RAGRHHHH!" She let out an involuntary bellow as a curse struck her shoulder squarely, and her paw nearly gave out under the weight of her lion form. A quick glance back allowed her to dodge another incoming spell, but also gave her the reason for a lack of returning spell fire. It seemed her gambit had worked, to a point. The Ministry had found its courage and begun to press the attack, but several of the Death Eaters were still concentrating on the location where Ron and company had been concealed. Turning in a wide arc, Ginny began to run back towards the forest and their assumed meeting point. Hoping to Merlin, Isis and anyone else who might listen that her actions hadn't gotten anyone killed.

'Come on, Merlin!' Harry yelled as he tore after his lioness, mentally berating himself the whole time. Why did he agree to Ron's plan? She could have been hurt, or killed. Were the silly humans really worth that? He didn't know them and neither did Ginny, but there was the rub. Ginny was the one who wanted to rescue them, and even if she was the only one going she would have gone. Harry knew that, and he also knew that she hated bullies. The fact that they were able to get even one of the children away safely was a miracle, thank Isis, and from the flashes of light against the trees, Harry was willing to bet that their little show galvanized the Ministry into not being outdone by two teenagers and their human pets.

The retreating group of teens wasn't too terribly tough to spot, for Harry's superb Kneazle eyes, and shortly after spotting them he was back on two legs to rejoin his lost Pride.

"She's hurt!" Hermione cried.

"I'm fine, I can't very well tell Mum about this, now can I?" Ginny huffed. As Harry knelt next to her, he examined a long cut that seemed to be bleeding profusely across her shoulder.

"Isis, Ginny, someone has to take a look at that," Harry murmured.

"And who would you recommend, Paws? You fancy telling Mum about this, or perhaps Viktor Krum might magically turn up and heal it, while at the same time professing his undying love for me."

"Ginny!" Harry snapped. "That's not sexing funny. You're going to get that shoulder taken care of without anyone confessing anything!" Harry kicked the ground hard, but came into contact with something else entirely. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the prone and unconscious form of a small boy, lying gently on the ground.

"That's the bloke Hermione rescued," George supplied. "I told them to leave him there, but these two were afraid that he might be missed."

'Harry, can I drop this bloody stick now?' Merlin asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, just go set it by the trees. No one will find it there."

'Thank Isis,' Merlin muttered. 'I'm not Freyja, after all. What on earth would I need with a stick?'

"Looks like we'll have to be getting him back then, won't we? They'll never find him if we leave him out here."

Hermione quickly levitated the boy and the group began to walk apprehensively towards what they assumed would be a group of Ministry Wizards.

"Hey! It looks like they bunked out," Ron cheered. "I knew they couldn't last too long."

The small group all smiled at that. Smiles that were cut off a moment later by the cold drawl of Lucius Malfoy. "My, my, what do we have here? Assaulting a Muggle is a serious crime. The Boy Who Lived mixed up in such a thing? We'll have the have this sorted immediately."

Ron spun, his wand outstretched. "Expelliarmus," Lucius said, quietly. Ron's wand flew from his grasp.

"No funny business, children. Now march."

Marching back across the field that they just fled was far less scary now that the masked terrors had fled, but being held at wand point by any Malfoy, especially the patriarch of that den of snakes did no one's nerves any favours.

"Lucius, what are you doing?" The tone of surprise in the man Harry vaguely remembered as the Minister of Magic, was unmistakable.

"These… children were found using magic on an unconscious Muggle. That gravely contradicts both the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, as well as the statute of secrecy. I brought them here, Minister, so that perhaps our resident legal expert on the matter, Mr. Crouch, might be able to shed some light on the matter."

"Lucius, come now, these are just children. I mean you have The-Boy Who Lived, for goodness sake. Surely you aren't suggesting that he is caught up in all this foolishness. Think of what kind of a scandal that would cause." Fudge wrung his hands in obvious distress.

"Not as much as the public perception of favouritism from the Ministry with regards to ignoring serious crimes."

"You mean like ignoring being a Death Eater with the right contributions?" Ron grumbled. Hermione elbowed him sharply

"Ron, you're not helping!" she hissed.

"Oh, well, I mean perhaps we should take a brief look. We certainly can't have the appearance of impropriety, now can we?"

"Unless it makes donations to St. Mungos," Ron muttered, receiving another sharp elbow from Hermione.

"Still not helping, git," she hissed.

"Minister, what seems to be the problem?" A tall, thin man with a precisely trimmed tooth-brush moustache and dark grey hair asked.

"Ah, Barty, just the man we need to get to the bottom of this. Lucius, here, has found some children whom he believes may have been involved with those causing trouble. I'm at a bit of a loss, you know. They are just children, after all."

"Minister, the propensity for evil doesn't know an age limit. Many of the Death Eaters were recruited while inside Hogwarts herself. However, Mr. Malfoy's involvement raises a few questions," Barty growled.

"I've no idea what you're talking about Mr. Crouch," Malfoy replied evenly.

"Oh, I think you do, but that doesn't mean that these children are innocent. Winky!"

A small and possibly female house elf popped into existence rather abruptly. "Yes, Master Crouch?"

"Fetch my bottle of Veritaserum. There's only one way to get to the bottom of this."

A loud pop signalled the elf's disappearance. After a minute, an equal pop signalled her return. Bowing low, Winky held out a small glass vial full of colourless liquid. "Potter, step forward," Crouch commanded.

"You can't bloody well do this. There are laws against questioning people under Veritaserum, randomly," George protested. Fred shook his head agreeing vehemently.

"Shut it, boy! This is hardly random. I am a Ministry official investigating a grievous breach of both the Statute of Secrecy and Muggle baiting. I would think that your family above all would recognize the importance of enforcing these laws. Unless, of course, the children have taken a different course from their father. Decide a little Muggle baiting of your own might not go amiss?"

"I resent that, Mr. Crouch! Both my parents happen to be Muggles and I can say for certain that neither I nor anyone of my friends here had anything to do with that awful scene earlier. We were rescuing that little boy over there, because it didn't seem that the Ministry was prepared to do anything." Hermione stomped her foot angrily at the implied accusation.

Crouch returned a withering glare. "Miss, I don't care if you're the Queen herself, you'll do as you're told or face the consequences. Now, Potter, front and centre and we can get to the bottom of this."

'Harry, I don't like this. Get furry and we can get out of here, now,' Merlin urged his brother. Harry merely shook his head silently at his plea. Harry wasn't at all sure what this Vitaminserum stuff was, but if it would keep his friends out of trouble, he supposed he'd have to take it.f

"Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue," Crouch ordered. Harry did as he was told, giving the Crouch man a withering glare of derision. Harry felt three drops of liquid hit his palette and he suddenly had the urge to tell anyone anything they wanted to know.

"Now, Harry, did you or your friends attack those Muggles?" Crouch asked.

"Merow!" Harry responded.

"Excuse me?" Crouch looked a little taken aback at the answer. Harry couldn't understand it, it was perfectly clear.

"Merow, meow, prrt!" Harry continued.

"Did you or your friends cast any spells this evening of an offensive nature?"

"Meow, meow, ffftt!" Harry replied, horror struck. They would certainly know that he and his whole Pride broke the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. He couldn't fathom how they were going to get out of this, but as hard as he tried, he simply couldn't seem to say anything other than the truth.

'Harry! Shut up, you're telling them everything,' Merlin pleaded. Harry knew he was right, but what could he do about it?

For another eternity, it seemed, Crouch questioned him with even the occasional input from Malfoy and Harry guessed he had told them his life story. They asked him everything except if he had romantic designs on the youngest Weasley, and no matter how he tried, he answered each question truthfully.

"Winky!" Crouch snapped. The small bug-eyed creature appeared.

"Yes, Master Crouch?"

"You've brought me the wrong bottle. Return and fetch the right one, and then be sure to punish yourself for your failings."

"Yes, Master Crouch, Winky will try to locate the right vial, and then Winky will iron her ears for an hour!"

"That's barbaric!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It's the price of failure," Crouch replied.

Winky reappeared and handed another crystal vial to her master and then disappeared with equal speed. "Weasley!" Crouch snapped.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," Fred mocked.

"Fine, the crippled one. You're as likely as any, step forward."

Ron looked nervously at his brothers. They had all thought Harry's Veritaserum resistance was quite the joke at the time, but now being faced with it himself his bravado seemed to vanish entirely.

"Children, there you are! When you weren't in the clearing, we thought something terrible had happened." Ron had never been so glad to hear his mother's voice, even as she rushed over and gave each of them an enveloping hug.

"Harry, what's the matter?" Molly inquired.

"Merow… meow, meow, Prrt!" Harry responded, secretly glad as well, that this particular molly had arrived. She was a fierce one and would no doubt have them out from the clutches of these very angry men.

"They gave him Veritaserum, Mum!" Ginny cried. "They were going to give it to all of us."

"You what?" Molly roared, rounding on all three men. Fudge seemed to wilt a little, but Crouch and Lucius stood strong. Harry had to admire their foolhardy resolve. No one got away with attacking Molly's litter.

"Mrs. Weasley, as an official Ministry representative I was investigating the potential use of dark magic by underage witches and wizards, who were found with an unconscious Muggle boy in their possession. Now, if you would have a more suitable explanation for what happened then perhaps all of this would be meaningless."

"The students in question hardly have spotless records," Malfoy cut in. "It doesn't seem beyond the pale that given their preferential treatment at school that they might seek to continue their ill-advised antics outside those hallowed walls. They need to be taught the lesson, that despite Dumbledore's sympathies, the real world takes a dim view of such activities."

Harry took a step back, from the colour of Molly's face Harry wouldn't have been a bit surprised if she accidentally, or perhaps not accidentally, turned the blonde man into a toad.

"Barty, while you are certainly a Ministry official, you are also not part of DMLE, and really not allowed to be administering Veritaserum to anyone, especially children," Arthur Weasley cut in as soon as he arrived, hoping to avoid a Prewett level meltdown.

"Not supposed to be enchanting cars to fly, either," Crouch shot back. "This won't take but a few minutes, and provided none of your brood have been involved with any dark wizard activities you can have them back."

"Barty, let them go. They weren't involved in anything."

"I believe the most compromising situation I found them in would suggest otherwise, Arthur," Lucius drawled, the glee at catching the children poorly concealed on his face.

"Stay out of this," Molly hissed.

"Mrs. Weasley, if you can't control yourself I'm going to have to call the Aurors to restrain you," Crouch shot back.

"And what would the Aurors say about a former department head taking things into his own hands to drug and question a handful of underage witches and wizards, including the Boy Who Lived? I think they would take a pretty dim view of such things, especially due to the fact that according to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, an adult is clearly defined as someone over the age of seventeen. All those under may not be detained or questioned without a guardian present. As neither Molly nor myself were present I believe that any case brought against them would be summarily dismissed. At the very least, Minister, think of the bad publicity once the Prophet got a hold of something of this magnitude. Death Eaters running amok at the World Cup and who does a disgraced former head of the Aurors choose to take the blame? The very boy responsible for You-Know-Who's downfall."

"What would you suggest then, Arthur?" Fudge asked, clearly cowed by the possible public backlash.

"Either charge them formally, or let them go. As it stands, any barrister worth his salt would tear the prosecution apart with the initial inept handling of Mr. Crouch. I would think that in addition, the possible apprehension from Lucius alone would cast enough doubt that any reasonable court would dismiss the charges immediately. Then think of the ruckus."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lucius hissed, venomously.

"That you're one evil, slimy… OW!" Ron grimaced as Hermione's heel slammed firmly into the top of his foot.

"You're hopeless, Ron!" she whispered.

"Well, he is! Have you seen a greasier git, and I'm including Snape in this, mind you." A subtle throat clearing brought the rowing couple back to reality where both had the good sense to look ashamed.

"As a pure-blood family, Weasley, I would have thought even you might have been able to instil manners in your whelps."

Arthur sniffed disdainfully. "I taught them the value of honesty, Lucius. Perhaps that's something you could take to heart."

Fudge finally spoke up. "Lucius, while your assistance is appreciated at this point, I am going to have to confer with those in the Auror office as to the best way to proceed. Barty, if you would accompany me?"

"Minister, you can't possibly be thinking about letting these miscreants go?" Crouch protested.

"Barty, I think the Aurors would be a better team to sort this out, don't you?" Fudge's tone left no doubt as to his feelings about the matter or whether or not he actually cared about Crouch's opinion. Standing upright, Crouch dusted himself off and nodded curtly, following the Minister and with a degree of distance, Malfoy. Ron stared at his freshly returned wand as though it were coated in a layer of pine sap.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Hermione pressed.

"That git touched it. Do you think it's possible to de-grease a wand?" This earned him another sharp jab in the ribs.

"Bloody hell," Arthur muttered. "Bill and Charlie are cleaning up the site now, but I think it best if we try and arrange for the rest of you to get home."

"And on the way, you can tell your father and me the truth," Molly proclaimed. Even Hermione shuddered at the prospect.

oOo

The next morning was madness. The Daily Prophet had run an article with the headline 'Scenes of Terror at the World Cup'. Arthur read it out loud so that the whole family might enjoy the festive article which featured action, adventure, intrigue and a healthy dose of total disrespect for the Ministry of Magic. Harry had to admire the writer; this Rita Skeeter seemed to have actually gotten it right, or at least as right as any journalist was capable of. One of the many small prayers of thanks that Harry sent to Isis was that Kneazles were smart enough never to have invented journalists.

As Harry made his way back towards Arabella's house, he was greeted just outside by a very worried looking Mum and an equally harried looking Arabella. "Harry, dear, you're alright!"

'What did you get into this time?' Mum mewed sternly. She was sure that Harry was going to make her fur fall out before the end of the year.

"Yes, I am, Arabella, and no, Mum, I didn't get into anything too much. Just the usual, saving children from mortal peril, being accosted by unfriendly human hands and in the end leading my Pride to safety with minimal assistance. You know how it is. Is breakfast ready? I'm starving."

As Harry strolled towards the kitchen, Mum and Arabella shared a look that all females understand, regardless of other barriers. 'Men!'

"Harry, dear, are you sure you're alright? You don't have a headache do you?"

"No, Arabella," Harry replied around a mouthful of scone, but he abruptly stopped rubbing his scar. "I was just thinking about this weird dream I had on Saturday."

"Oh, what was that?" Arabella asked.

"Well, Volderdog, and that Lestrange bloke, were planning something. They were talking all about having killed this Bertha Jorkins woman and about how they were going to kill me too, and then Volderdog killed this old, kind-looking Muggle man."

Arabella's face had gone white as marble. "What happened then, Harry?" she whispered.

"Well, I woke up. My scar was hurting a bit, but that went away soon enough. I learned my lesson though."

"Oh?" Arabella heard herself asking, not really sure what lesson he could have learned from this strange dream.

"Yeah, never mix mole and day old milk. It gives you more than gas, I'll tell you that!"

"Harry, you said your scar was hurting, not your whole head?"

"I dunno, maybe. It seemed concentrated in my scar, that was for sure. I don't remember that clearly. Didn't seem that important after the fact."

"How could you think it isn't?"

"I've had plenty of strange dreams before. There was one where I went to the moon and the whole thing was made of cheese, which was kind of gross, but it was infested with mice, and that was awesome! There was this other one about Sebastian dancing in a kilt for the local Women's Institute for fivers stuffed into his pants. It didn't make any sense. I mean, from talking to Seamus, why would he be wearing any pants if he had a kilt? I didn't think Scotsman did that, though Seamus isn't Scottish, so I can't explain why he would know about these things."

"Harry…"

"And then there was this one, with Ginny, but she wasn't my Ginny, you know? She was older, seventeen or so, and she was wearing this little black see-through robe. And then she came over to me and said something like 'Happy Birthday' I don't really remember because I wasn't paying that much attention, but THEN she started to unzip…"

"HARRY!" Arabella interrupted fiercely. "Perhaps this wasn't all a dream."

"It had to be, I've been through all Ginny's things and she doesn't own anything like that. Last time I saw her naked she certainly didn't look like that, either."

"Harry," Arabella nearly cried. "I meant your dream with You-Know-Who. Perhaps there was more to it than merely a dream. Have you told anyone else about it yet?"

"Not yet. I didn't think much of it. I was much more interested in the ones with nudity, though I'm not sure why…"

"Harry, I think you need to tell Sebastian about this. He has more of a mind for it than I do."

"Why is that?"

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Well, you and Dad Weasley and even Mum Weasley talk about him when he's not here like he's an amazing hunter. I've never seen him do too many awesome things, so I was wondering why."

"Harry, he's taught you to fight and dodge and run on two legs, isn't that enough?"

"It would be enough for me, but sometimes I think I'm a little different from other people, and you might not be as impressed."

Arabella sighed. "My dear brother used to be an Auror. A very good one, from all accounts, but beyond that it isn't my place to tell you. You'll have to talk to him about it."

"Fair enough. Maybe I can do that when I tell him about my dream."

"Perhaps," she smiled faintly.

'Harry!' came the unmistakable mew of Father.

"Yes, what is it?" Harry asked in alarm. Father almost never fetched him directly.

'Come with me, there are things we need to discuss.'

"Of course. One moment, if you will." Harry turned to Arabella, "Sorry, Father needs me. I'll talk to Sebastian later." Harry quickly dropped to all fours and followed his Father out the door.

They walked around the perimeter of their territory for half an hour, before finally coming to stop under the shade of a small oak tree.

'Harry, there is something we need to talk about and I've put it off for far too long. Certain facts about your life, that I've omitted until now, and we need to correct them.'

"What's that? You've taught me to hunt, fight and protect the pride. I can sneak up on a mouse or squirrel, and you've taught me the proper care and feeding of our humans. What else can there be?'

'Soon, son, you're going to start feeling the urge to take a mate. This is a very important consideration for we Kneazles, as I'm sure you're somewhat aware. Not all of us do. Many stay with the home pride until the day we die. Your brother Merlin is like that as are most of your sisters. For some, though, the urge is strong enough that they go out into the world to find a she-Kneazle of their own and begin their own Pride. I think this is what you'll do, son. '

'But, Father…' Harry's protestations died as Father continued on as though no interruption had occurred.

'There isn't anything wrong with that. You've seen too much of the wider world to be content with being my right-paw tom, but if that's the case then it is my job to give you the lessons I've learned about mollies.'

Harry nodded. Every one of Father's lectures whether on hunting, or humans had turned out to be incredibly important.

'Firstly, a Kneazle mates for life. Common house cats have dalliances all over, so I encourage you to avoid them. You're much too sensible a tom to go mucking about with a common house molly. Next, when you find the right one…'

'How will I know if she's the right one?' Harry interrupted.

Father merely smiled a little and slitted his eyes. 'There were times I couldn't breathe around your mother. All I can tell you is the whole world shifts. You'd do anything for that molly and you know she'd do anything for you. Now, when you find the right one, it is important to treat her right. When you're trying to win her favour take it slow. Don't just rush into her den and begin mewling a love song. Bring her moles and mice to show you're a good hunter, allow her to get used to your scent and try not to fight with her brothers or sisters. They won't take too kindly to a strange tom in their territory, but if you can talk to her father first you might get a leg up. Then, serenade her with your best meows. Let her know you've chosen her and you won't go anywhere until she gives you an answer, and for Isis' sake, don't try and mate with her until she comes into heat! Now that's all the help I can give you for right now. Any questions?'

'What if she chases you?'

'Then she's the one.'

'Oh. Well… what if she's a human?'

'WHAT? Why on earth would you need to know that?' Father's scandalized look had Harry trying to explain himself very quickly.

'Well, it's just that my human friend Neville and I are about the same age but his Mum and Dad were killed by some bad dogs and he doesn't have anyone to watch out for him like this so I was hoping you could give me some advice.'

Father closed his eyes and thought for several long minutes. 'Well, Harry, from what I can tell it's about the same with humans. There might be a small difference here or there. For example the human mollies tend to care about what you sing, words and such that they use, rather than the melodious sound of your voice, but on the whole I think we're close enough to count.'

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 'That's good. Makes things easier for everyone.'

_AN: Hope everyone likes this. Here is a prime example of how the characters have begun to diverge from their canon counterparts. A good example, Sebastian's influence coupled with the Harry's reliance on his knife as opposed to his wand denies Barty Crouch the chance to cast the Dark Mark. Finally to answer the question, why was Harry making cat noised under Veritaserum. The answer is in there, can you figure it out? As I hate it when authors do that, I will give it to you. Harry was answering every question truthfully, in the tongue he was most comfortable with. If you gave it to a Russian for example, I think he would answer in Russian, not English._

_Chapter 5 is now in the planning/prewriting stage and should be moving to writing in the next few days. I do hope the longer chapter here makes up for the wait. Thank you again to all my readers and reviewers and I'm going to put out the plea one more time. If you can sign in to make a review, please do so! I want to respond to your reviews, whether it be a simple thank you, or an explanation of why I did something. I appreciate review I get. In the meantime, please remember: To These Things You Must Return!_


	5. Home again, home again

Ch 5 Home again Home again

The morning of September first was not an auspicious one. Ron was still furious about the dress robes that his mother had bought, and despite Harry's repeated offers to Mrs. Weasley that she should use some of his surplus shiny things to buy Ron a decent set he was firmly rebuffed. Hermione still seemed to be brooding about something that neither Ron nor Harry had the courage to ask about, and Merlin was trying to come to terms with the idea of spending more than precisely two seconds confined in a cage.

Sebastian had just stopped over, to say farewell to the returning party, when an urgent Floo-call came through for Arthur.

"Arthur, are you there?"

"I'm here, Amos. What's the problem?"

"Seems that Mad-Eye had a bit of an alarm this morning. Caused a big to do and lots of noise, so the neighbours called the, what do you call them… please-men?"

Harry smirked for a moment at being vindicated once again.

"Arthur, you've got to get over there! Real stroke of luck that I heard about it just as I came into the office and saw all the Improper Use of Magic lot setting off."

Sebastian snorted heavily and stalked out of the room. Harry heard him mutter, "I'd leave old Alastor to rot. It isn't like he's done this family any favours."

Harry stared after his adopted uncle, his brow furrowed in confusion. Sebastian was more an enigma to him now than ever. He'd heard Arthur talking about this Moody fellow before, and both Arthur and

Molly seemed to hold a generally positive opinion of the man while Sebastian's was so very obviously opposite troubled the Kneazle. He decided to finally ask his 'uncle' one question.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, m'boy?" Sebastian replied, his mind obviously elsewhere as he absentmindedly twirled his wand.

"What's wrong with this Moody man?"

Sebastian's jaw clenched involuntarily. "You'd do your best to stay away from him. If you can manage that the old bugger should be kicking the bucket any time, if I'm lucky."

"I don't understand Uncle. Molly and Arthur don't seem to have a problem with him. Why do you?"

"That man… never did me or this family any favours, despite what Arthur and Molly might think about him. If I see him again in this life time, it will be all together too soon. That's all you need to know. Now, is your trunk packed and in the car?"

"Yes, Sebastian."

"Good, I imagine with Arthur gone, Molly might appreciate a little help corralling you lot. I'll just go and ask." Sebastian strode away leaving Harry to contemplate with some confusion, his 'uncle.'

As they all crowded into the tan Volvo, Harry did a quick count and despite the enlarged interior there were still seven for only six seats. When Harry asked about this, Sebastian's grin became impossibly wide.

"I put these on just for you, Harry," he said, pointing out two large black handles on the top of the car.

"What are those for?"

"Come on, son, you aren't that dense. I'm hoping if I give you a bit of adventure beforehand, then you might have a chance at a quiet year this time."

"I'm still not sure what they're for."

"You don't like riding inside the car much, do you?" Sebastian asked.

"Well… no, not much."

"Then don't! Jump on top and hang on tight. I have a large amount of confidence you won't go flying off."

"Really?" Harry asked, shocked that his uncle would even consider something like this.

"It's why I'm going. If I stayed behind, perhaps you could ride inside, but then something bad might happen and Molly would be even more put out with you. At this point, I can distract her. Just don't make too much noise, alright?"

Harry nodded eagerly and after a moment, stealthily climbed onto the roof. As the car began to drive away, Harry's grin got wider and wider. This year was already shaping up to be spectacular!

"Uncle, why are all the Muggles staring at us like we did something wrong? Surely this car is perfectly legal," Molly asked, very worriedly. As they parked the car a large number of people were giving the driver of the Volvo and the occupants some very odd and somewhat distrustful looks.

"I'm… er…. Not sure, Molly. Perhaps, it's the colour of the car. It really isn't very attractive, is it?"

"Oi, where's Harry?" Ron sputtered, as he slowly woke back to consciousness.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, did we leave him behind?" Molly exclaimed.

"Yeah!" The mystery of Harry's whereabouts were suddenly revealed as he rolled off the roof with much less stealth than he had climbed on with and began jumping about the car park thrusting his fists in the air.

"Uncle… where did he come from?"

"It would appear the top of the car, Molly."

Turning her head far slower than Sebastian was comfortable with, Molly stared at him. "You wouldn't have had any idea he was up there, would you? That wouldn't potentially be the reason as to why those Muggles were giving us strange looks would it?"

"You know," Sebastian began in his best conversational voice, "Your Mum used to give us the exact same look when we came to visit you after you were just born. I don't think I deserve it now any more than we deserved it then."

"You Vanished my hair!"

"You don't know that. You only have your Mum's word for it."

"And she was awfully untrustworthy then?"

"For a sister-in-law, she was alright, but in my defence, I was twelve at the time."

"What's your defence now?"

"I'm still twelve… at heart, and there were charms on the handles to make sure he wouldn't fly off." Sebastian grinned impudently and then stepped briskly out of the car. "Come on, children, you don't want to miss the train."

"Uncle!"

"Move along, smartly," Sebastian commanded, ushering the gaggle of Weasleys and near Weasleys through the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters. All five of them pushed their trolleys along the scarlet steam engine with Merlin making repeated derogatory comments about nearly every human they passed.

"Merlin, you can't hate every other human," Harry chided.

'I don't hate them, I just wouldn't want them for my pet. Oi! Look at that little runt over there. He couldn't take a cursing like my pet could, I'll tell you that.'

"And that's important is it?" Harry asked as he rolled his eyes.

'It's important to have hardy pets. I'm quite sure a few humans have expired because a young kitten forgot to take care of them, that's all.'

"Good to know, mate," Harry muttered. He strongly suspected that his brother's foul mood came not from the condition of any nearby human, but from the fact that he was currently stuck in his cage. Ron promised to let him out as soon as they were aboard, but that was little consolation to the battle-worn Kneazle's pride.

'I did not fight a dog so that I could be caged like a common house cat!' Merlin continued to grumble. Harry wisely ignored him.

"Well dears, I suppose I'll have to leave you all here." Molly's voice carried a slight tone of disappointment. "I would invite you home for the holidays, but I suppose this year you'll certainly want to stay, what with all that will be going on."

"What's going on? You and the rest of the family have been hinting about something, now what is it?" George demanded.

Before his mother could answer, though, several familiar voices carried across the platform.

"Not going to leave without saying goodbye, are we?" Charlie called out, flanked by his elder brother.

"Charlie!" Ginny squealed happily. "I didn't think you were going to see us off."

"And miss my favourite half-pint headed off for another wild year? I'd never miss that, Ginny. We just didn't fancy the drive. Apparition is so much simpler." As Charlie was talking he scooped Ginny up in his arms and spun her around several times. Harry smiled a little. Only Charlie could get away with something like that. Even Bill would have been a little suspect at this point, as Harry strongly suspected that Ginny hadn't wholly forgiven him for the apparent yarn ball misunderstanding from a few days prior.

"When will I get to see you again?" Ginny moped.

"Oh, sooner than you might think," Charlie replied and winked. "Just be good and don't let the doxies bite!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not five anymore, Charlie."

"No, you're most certainly not, so that's why when the blokes start to chase you this year, I want you to write your big older brother, Charlie, and let me know if any of them try to get fresh. I'll be there in the twinkling of a dragon's eye to sort them out," he grinned.

"Dragon's eyes twinkle?" Fred asked.

"Only when they're trying to eat you," Charlie shrugged, ignoring the concerned 'hmmm…' from his mother.

"Now, you lot better get moving and keep your noses clean this year. It's so exciting. Makes me wish I was back at Hogwarts," Bill grinned.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" Ron demanded and was reprimanded immediately for his language.

"You'll find out soon enough, Ron," Molly assured him and with that they all boarded the train.

"Damn," George swore. "They all know something, and even Bagman was going to tell us at the stadium, but our own family won't. Where's the justice?" he lamented.

"When did you talk to Bagman about anything?" Harry asked.

"Right before you and Merlin sank your claws into his crotch," Ron replied. "You were furry at the time, so you weren't exactly there."

"Oh, right."

"You know, Harry. We're still waiting for an explanation from you," George began.

"And our dearest baby sister," Fred concluded.

"I'm sure you are, but my leg hurts and you'll have to excuse us. We're going to find a compartment."

"Your girlfriend saving you one then?" Fred winked.

Ron whirled on them, his wand drawn. "You leave Hermione out of this; she's not my girlfriend," he growled.

"Never mentioned names, mate. Methinks Ronniekins has a crush," George replied. As Ron's face got progressively redder, the twins gave identical, suggestive winks and then sauntered off to find their own cohort.

"C'mon," Ron muttered. When they did find Hermione, it was with a certain amount of surprise as she was deep in conversation with none other than Luna Lovegood.

"Newt Scamander's text is quite comprehensive, Luna, and I haven't found mention of a Crumple-horned Snorkack anywhere. I'm sorry to say they simply aren't real."

"Oh, but they are, daddy has seen one. We just haven't been able to capture one yet."

"Have you seen one?" Hermione challenged.

"No," Luna replied innocently, "but then I haven't seen a tornado, either, and I do believe those exist."

"Well of course those exist," Hermione huffed. "They're well documented weather phenomenon."

"Documented by whom?" Luna asked innocently.

"Scientists of course!"

"Are these the same funny men who deny magic is real, because they haven't seen it?"

Ron chose that moment to save a sputtering Hermione from a bout of self-righteous indignation. "Hullo," Ron stammered.

"Would you sit down, Ron? Your leg must be killing you," Ginny chided and gave her brother a small shove. He sat down abruptly and rather stiffly next to the bushy-haired witch.

"Oh, is your leg hurting?" Hermione asked with deep concern.

"Erm… a little I suppose. With all the walking and excitement it's been a little stressful, you know. Haven't had a chance to really stretch it out and relax it," he muttered, ears flaming red.

"Oh, well lean up against the wall then and you can stretch it out. There isn't really enough room to go across the compartment."

Ron did as instructed but quickly noticed that his lounging took up more room than was available, leaving Harry standing.

"Not really enough room, Hermione," Ron muttered as he began to scoot back to his original position.

"Nonsense," she replied and lifted his leg gently, and slid under it. "There, now there's enough room for everyone."

"Thanks," Ron muttered. Harry was willing to bet his friend was rapidly approaching a total lack of coherent speech capabilities.

"You two are quite cute. How long have you been going out?" Luna asked.

"We're not!" they both exclaimed at once.

"Oh, well then, you shouldn't wait too long," Luna advised Hermione. "He's likely to be quite handsome in the future and there will be quite a few girls wanting to snog him. If you're not careful, Nargles will infest his brain and that's all he'll have time for."

The entire compartment was silent as the grave as they all stared at the petite Ravenclaw. Even Pigwidgeon stopped hooting for the moment. The spell was broken as the particularly loathsome voice of Malfoy carried through their compartment.

"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, and Dumbledore's such a Mudblood-lover, they don't allow that sort of riffraff there. Mother didn't want me so far away, though. Durmstrang is far more sensible about the dark arts. They actually learn them there, not just the defence rubbish we do."

Ron snorted. "Wish his Mum had sent him away. Then we wouldn't have to deal with the wanker."

"But then who would Harry take out his latent frustrations on? The list of people does seem to be rather short," Luna replied.

"Durmstrang is the other Wizarding school?" Harry asked.

"Well that and Beauxbatons."

"Doesn't sound like this Durmstrang is a terribly nice place," Ginny interjected.

"Oh no, it has quite a horrible reputation for being very forward with teaching its students the dark arts," Hermione replied. Harry tried to listen to Hermione's commentary about the other magical schools and their various flaws, high points and secrets, but the compartment was getting just a little cramped for him.

Finally, he stood up. "Coming, Sparkplug?"

"Where?" Ginny replied.

"Top of the train. It's getting a bit stuffy in here."

"Oi! You can't just sit on the top of the train," Ron argued. "I mean, it's dangerous!"

"We did it last year, Ron. It's no big deal, really."

"Well, take your bloody owl with you. Its racket is giving Merlin a headache," Ron griped.

"He isn't that bad, Ron. If it bothers you that much…" Ginny walked over and reached into her brother's trunk, pulling out the set of hideous dress robes on top and throwing them neatly over her owl's cage. The hooting stopped nearly at once.

They headed to the end of the train car where there was the predictable ladder to the top which both Ginny and Harry scaled with ease. As they sat in silence, Ginny's smile continued to grow until her face threatened to break. "It's beautiful up here, Harry. Why didn't I appreciate it last year?"

"You were still a kitten, then. Now you're much more comfortable with yourself. You're graceful, and surefooted, not to mention a real fighter. You're a real Kneazle, Ginny."

"I'm a lion," she shot back.

"A beautiful one," Harry mumbled.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, her face screwed up in confusion.

"Nothing! I said it's beautiful here. You're right about that."

"You're acting awfully strange, Paws."

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry mumbled, mentally kicking himself. Beautiful, where the hell did that come from? She was his human for Isis' sake! 'Ah, but she's also a cat, kind of like you,' a traitorous voice in the back of his mind pointed out. Harry shook his head. He really hated traitorous voices.

"Do you think Merlin is going to be ok? I mean, Ron still hasn't let him out of the cage," Ginny asked.

Harry waved it off. "Sure he did, I'm surprised you didn't notice. He and Crookshanks went off to explore"

"You don't think that was a bad idea? Letting two fairly combative toms roam about the compartment?"

"They can take care of themselves. I know Merlin can, and I imagine Crookshanks will be more than fair."

"Harry did you hear that?" Ginny asked. Sure enough as he listened, the foul voice of Malfoy could be heard taunting Ron.

"C'mon, Ginny, I think we have a bloody stoat to sort out."

"Wait, I have an idea, Harry."

"No, I'm not cutting a hole in the roof again. McGonagall asked me not to after last year."

"Not that, you daft kitty. The window right below us is open. Get furry and I'll chuck you through. Then you can climb Malfoy like a tree."

"You think that's going to work?"

"Only one way to find out."

A moment later Ginny had stuck herself to the top of the train and managed, barely, to sling her now furry, yet still quite heavy, friend through the open window. The shrieks of several girls made her giggle.

Harry landed roughly in the centre of the compartment and looked up at the sound of a loud purr. 'Mog?'

'Harry? What are you doing here?'

'Going to save your human from torment. What the hell are you doing here, and where is Merlin?'

'Erm… I'm well… these lovely girls decided they just had to pet me and in the interest of Kneazle and human relations I couldn't very well say no. Merlin thought he smelled a molly down the way.'

'Bloody hell, so you're getting stroked and Merlin went off to try and get a shag. You two are hopeless. If it isn't too much trouble would you like to come and help me defend your human now?'

"Where did this one come from? He's awfully pretty," Harry looked up and noticed that he was surrounded by four older, and rather fit, Hufflepuff girls. While under normal circumstances he might, as Crookshanks did, subject himself to their tender ministrations for the good of Kneazle-human relations, but right now he had a mission.

'If you'll excuse me ladies, I'll be back later to sample your hands, but at the moment we have ferret to bite. Come along, Mog!'

Harry and Crookshanks arrived just in time to hear the slamming of a compartment door and a low rumbling growl.

'Harry, Crookie, nice to see you,' Merlin growled. Harry supposed that his brother's bad temper was due to the three boys he'd cornered.

'I caught these three picking a fight with my pet. Do you care to help me handle them, or should I teach them something on my own?'

"The Weasleys really mustn't have two Knuts to rub together, even that ginger's cat is second hand," Malfoy scoffed, with Goyle and Crabbe laughing at the joke.

'Oh, we're in on this,' Mog declared and Harry agreed, adding his own growl to the mix. Malfoy turned around slowly to find that he was now facing three unstoppable engines of furry destruction. Harry was surprised the little toad sucker didn't wet himself.

'Don't attack until he pulls a wand. We don't want to be accused of starting a fight,' Harry warned.

"What's going on here?" A new voice behind Harry caused all three felines to stop growling for just a moment to assess the newcomer. He was a tall blonde bloke and his badge along with colour choice called him out as a Hufflepuff prefect.

"These bloody cats are trying to attack us!" Malfoy complained, though his wand was still resting comfortably in his robes, and not out where it could be serviceable in defending himself.

'Harry, that big one nearly killed me last year,' Mog began. 'I've got to settle a score with him!'

'Not yet. Protecting your human is more important. We'll get him later,' Harry assured him.

As the low growls continued, Harry saw Goyle reach for his wand and tensed to spring. "Don't move!" The prefect commanded. "Now, Kneazles are territorial and if you haven't noticed, rather large. If you act aggressively they're sure to defend themselves."

'I want to defend myself anyway,' Merlin joked.

"What in the bloody hell are they doing outside roaming the corridor?" Malfoy demanded.

"I'm not sure, pets really aren't supposed to be out of their cages," the prefect responded. As if on cue, Ron opened the compartment and looked down.

"You tricky buggers! There you are. Oh, still here, Malfoy? You know, my Kneazles don't appreciate it when people insult my family. You should be more careful, otherwise they might eat you."

"Now see here, Mr…"

"Weasley," Ron supplied.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. You can't be letting your pets roam the train. They need to be kept in their cages," the Hufflepuff scolded.

"Why? Malfoy takes both of his everywhere he goes. I'm not too worried about it. They only go for the groin, so it isn't life-threatening. Is that all?"

"Mind the cheek."

"Tell the ferret to mind his manners next time and this will be entirely unnecessary, thanks for the warning, though." With that Ron shut the compartment door just as the last Kneazle slunk in and drew the curtains.

"You can change back, if you want to, Harry."

"What about Luna?" Hermione whispered. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Half my bloody family knows. You and Neville know, if Harry is comfortable enough with Luna, then why shouldn't she? No offence, but it isn't like anyone is going to believe her anyway."

"You're quite right, Ron. No one would believe that Harry was an Animagus since before he went to Hogwarts, even if you told them," Luna chipped in.

A second later Harry was human and starting dumbfounded at the Ravenclaw. "How did you know that?"

"You are exactly the same Kneazle that Ginny and I put in a dress a few years ago and if you're a Kneazle now then you're a Kneazle then. I'm just curious how you did it. Daddy would love to know."

"Isis granted me a boon," Harry replied.

"And you think I'm crazy," Luna sing-songed as she filled in another line in the Quibbler crossword.

"Do you have a better explanation?" Harry grumbled.

"No, merely pointing out an obvious fact."

"Bloody hell, how much longer until we get to Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"Two minutes," Hermione replied. "So you'd best get your robes on."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Stupid Malfoy disrupted a perfectly good nap."

"With a purrrfectly good molly," Harry added with a wink.

As they disembarked the train, leaving both Crookshanks and Merlin behind (both Crookshanks and Harry had promised Merlin that his pet wouldn't wander off without him), Harry began to think aloud. "You know, I think this will be the first time I've ridden in the carriages to the school with you lot," Harry remarked. "The first year it was the boats, second was the car and last I was escorted personally by McGiggles for fighting."

"Nothing special, Paws," Ginny replied, startling them all with her sudden reappearance, but as the carriages drew into view they all gasped.

"What are those?" Harry demanded, for drawing each carriage was a pair of large skeletal-looking horses with leathery wings and a very dragon-esque face.

"Thestrals," Luna responded. "Haven't you seen them before?"

"Never took the carriages up to the castle before tonight," Harry replied.

"What about back down?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Not then either, really. I mean… I was always sort of frolicking until the last minute. Had to say goodbye to the Pride and all that."

"I've always been able to see them. People say they're a bad omen, but I don't think so. They can only be seen by someone who's witnessed death and really understood it." Luna shrugged. "They're quite gentle creatures, I've been told, if they're taught properly. Most people just avoid them because of their reputation."

"Well, let's get a carriage, then," Harry responded, his friends following him less than enthusiastically.

As his Ginny, Hermione and Ron boarded the carriage, Harry stepped slightly forward to get a better look at the apparent omens of death. They didn't look all that scary. He supposed they just needed some getting used to.

'Ello then!' The first one called out, looking back at him. Harry jumped. He was able to talk to Kneazles, sure, and for some reason that he never quite pondered, he could understand the Hippogriffs as well, but for someone he just met to initiate a conversation was rather odd.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Harry replied, drawing his cloak tighter about his body. The weather was turning nasty and the howling wind was doing nothing for his comfort.

'Ohhh! This one can hear us! I'm so very pleased. We've been working so very hard at it, and it's so nice to know that all our hard work has paid off. Now, I'm Abbot," the first said.

'I'm Constance… and this is Fred," the second one concluded with a head motion to her right side.

"I'm sorry, where's Fred?" Harry asked.

'Right 'ere, silly boy. Say 'ello Fred.'

'Fred is always a shy one,' Abbot informed him. 'No manners at all. Never the less, if you want to get up to your stone castle thingy, you better hop in the wheel-box. Ever so exciting when we get to pull the wheel-box, wouldn't you agree, Constance?'

'Oh, yes, quite. Fred doesn't enjoy it as much as we do, but then who does?'

"Do you live here? Why haven't I seen you before?" Harry was a little confused at the back and forth between the two Thestrals. Yes, Harry counted for the fourth time, there did seem to be only two.

'Yes, we live here. The whole herd does, really, but most of the time we're off flapping about hunting, or tantalizing the Acromantula. Great fun, that. Ohhh, I knew we'd seen you before. You and a little girl came to talk to the Acromantula a few years ago, didn't you?'

"Yes, we did."

'We watched you almost get eaten. Constance and I were quite relieved when you made it out.'

'Fred was in a bit of a pout, though. You spoiled his fun. We had to wait a whole extra week for those little spidery blokes to calm down enough for us to go back and not get attacked.'

"They eat everything; how do you not get attacked?" Harry asked, astonished.

'It is the strangest thing, but they can't see us. I suppose it's just natural camouflage, and all that. Sometimes, though, I get the strangest feeling that they just can't see us at all, you know, like we're invisible or something.'

Constance whinnied derisively. 'Of course we're not invisible, that's bloody mad. Who ever heard of an invisible Thestral? Fred, you stay out of this, that was rhetorical, and we didn't ask you.'

"What exactly do you do with the Acromantula?" Harry asked after a moment of trying to understand the two Thestrals in front of him.

'Well,' Constance explained conspiratorially, 'You mustn't say a word, but we've convinced them that we're really the voices of a bloody big toad that's coming to eat them if they don't do as we say. Right now we've got them learning to dance. It's really quite marvellous.'

Harry snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. "I suppose it will be. Do you think I'll see you around?"

'Only if you can see through our camouflage. We're out in the open here, you see, so I'm not surprised you can see us, but in the woods we're practically invisible!' Abbot gloated.

'Not invisible, and Fred you can shut it or we shan't be sharing our pigeon stash with you this evening,' Constance berated the vacant air beside her.

'You forget he doesn't like pigeons. Never eaten one any of the times you offered. Now,' Abbot continued to Harry, 'Up you get, young lad. Wouldn't want you to get behind in learning magic.' At the word 'magic' both Constance and Abbot whinnied loudly.

"What's so funny about magic?" Harry demanded.

'Oh my boy, you aren't one of them too, are you?'

"What's that supposed to mean?"

'These humans are positively mad! They spend all their time shut up in their castle-box pretending they can do real magic, what with their silly stick waving and those funny words. Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you. I suppose everyone needs a hobby. Ours is hunting pigeons and making Acromantula dance, so what's wrong with waving a stick about and having a great time of make-believe. Oh, shush Fred, if it makes them happy who are we to judge, and there is nothing wrong with being a little mad, is there?'

"Erm, no, I suppose not," Harry agreed and then as quickly as decorum allowed got into the wheel-box with his friends.

"Were you talking to the Thestrals?" Ginny gushed. "That is wicked! What we're they like?"

Harry merely shook his head. "Like nothing I've ever met before."

Just the walk to the castle left them all soaked from the downpour that had commenced. Further aggravated by Peeves throwing ice-cold water filled balloons at many of the students, Harry really wished he could slip into his fur coat.

The Sorting managed to pass uneventfully, but the song, Harry was certain, was different than when he'd been Sorted. Ron was quick to point out that life as a hat was likely none too exciting and so in the intervening three hundred sixty-four days between Sortings, making up a song seemed as good a way to pass the time as any.

Finally, though, the food arrived. Ron gave a contented sigh as he shoveled several spoonfuls of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "That hits the spot," he sighed around a mouthful of food.

"Ron, manners, please!" Hermione chastised.

"You're really lucky to have a feast at all," Nearly-headless Nick commented sourly.

"Why's that?" Ginny asked.

"Well, Peeves wanted to attend the feast tonight, completely out of the question with how he's behaved in the past, but the Fat Friar wanted to give him another chance. The Baron, wisely put his foot down, though, and said no. Put Peeves in a bit of a state."

"So that's why he was causing a ruckus," Ginny wisely concluded. "But why would that have stopped the feast?"

"Oh, it wasn't that, my dear. Peeves went down to the kitchens and terrorized the house-elves within an inch of their lives."

The audible clang of silverware dropped on china drew the group's attention. "There are house-elves here at Hogwarts?" Hermione demanded.

"Oh yes, the largest population in England I believe. They do most of the work here."

"Why haven't we seen them?" Hermione asked.

"It's not like we hang about looking for them, is it?" Ron asked.

"I can't believe we're being fed from the work of slave labour!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It's not as bad as all that," Ron grumbled, clearly put out at his dinner being disturbed.

"Not as bad as all that?" Hermione nearly yelled, looking clearly appalled at her friend's obvious lack of concern. "Are they paid? Do they get sick leave and holidays? Are they ever allowed to quit or are they worked to death? How can you just sit there?"

"What are you on about, Hermione?" Ginny finally asked. "Have you even met any house-elves?"

"I heard all about Dobby, and look at how Mr. Crouch treated his at the Quidditch World Cup, ordering her to punish herself with no consideration of her wellbeing. How can you not call that an injustice of slave labour? If they were human, would you be so callous?"

"But they aren't human, Meow-meow. So that's kind of beside the point?" Ron shot back.

"But it isn't… what did you call me?" Hermione demanded.

"Meow-meow, after all 'Hermione' is kind of a mouthful. Besides," Ron smirked. "You didn't seem to mind it in the forest."

"I never!" Hermione screeched and stood rapidly, nearly running out of the hall.

"Ron, you git. Why would you make her cry like that?" Ginny demanded. "Now she's going to be in a snit all night and she's going to miss the introduction of our new Defence teacher."

"She wasn't going to drop it and I thought it better to redirect her anger. I didn't think she'd cry, though," Ron defended himself.

"Who gave you the idea that would work?" Harry asked.

"You did," Ron snapped. "You did the same bloody thing when she pestered you about class selection."

"She's going to be awfully angry when she realizes that she can't get in the tower. Do you think one of the teachers is going to go after her?" Neville chimed in.

"Maybe that's where the Defence teacher is," Ginny supplied.

"No, because there wasn't anyone here when we got here and I doubt whoever it is, is just hanging about waiting for this git to chase a girl out of the feast."

"Wasn't like she was going to eat any more anyway," Ron grumbled again.

"Because that's a good excuse!" Ginny snapped.

"Shush, all of you. Dumbledore is about to say something," Neville barked and he turned with rapt attention as the wizened headmaster stood and cleared his throat.

_AN: Happy Thanksgiving to all my USA readers and a Happy Thursday to all those not in that particular country. Here in chapter five and we get a whole grab bag of stuff: A little more Luna, some character development and a good Ron/Hermione fight. Hope this holds you guys over and keeps you going. If anyone asks, what is Sebastian's problem with Moody? That will be discussed later. To these things you must return. –Manatoc Fox_


	6. Dealing with Consequences

Ch 6

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed, plopping down in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room. "The Tri-Wizard championship? Hermione is going to go out of her tree when she realises she missed this. Shame about the Quidditch this year, though. I was looking forward to watching you flatten Slytherin again."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. He'd thought about Quidditch, but he certainly didn't breath it like Oliver had. "Firstly, I'd wager she knows about it now and if I were you, mate, I'd avoid her for a bit. Give her some time to calm down. I'm more concerned about our new Defence professor. What kind of an Auror can he be with all those scars?" Harry asked.

"Just means he's a good one," Ron replied.

"No, it means he doesn't know when to duck."

"You wouldn't say that about Merlin," Ron huffed.

"No, because Merlin doesn't get involved with dodging curses. He tangled with a dog too big for him. That's entirely different. You going to try and enter?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Bloody hell, no!" Ron exclaimed. "I'd love the thousand Galleons, for sure, but I've had enough near death experiences for a life time, I think. After helping you off a giant snake and taking on a Death Eater twice, there isn't a lot else that I figure can scare me."

"Except spiders," Ginny put in.

"Well, yeah, that goes without saying."

"I wouldn't mind trying," Harry offered.

"Paws, not that I don't think you'd make it, but Dumbledore told us about the age line. You have to be seventeen and haven't you had enough adventure? Why not relax for a year before you battle a Nundu or something."

"There's going to be a Nundu?" Harry asked.

"What? No, I was just being silly," Ginny scoffed. "My point is that you seem to get into plenty of trouble on your own without trying out for a bloody great competition that was discontinued because of a high death toll. You don't need the money, and you certainly don't need the fame."

"True," Harry agreed.

"So why do it?" Ron asked.

"For the challenge. Who knows what kind of dastardly things I could have to face and overcome. It sounded like an awful lot of fun, but you're right. I don't think I could get past the age line anyway. I think Fred and George are planning to try and get in anyway."

"They aren't of age, either," Ginny reminded him.

"They'll have their ways, I'm sure, and their birthday is in April. Why can't they have their shot?" Further musings were cut off when Hermione descended from the girls' dormitories, her face still red. Ron stood as quickly as his leg would allow and made to go to her. Harry and Ginny's eyes met at the same time. They were both thinking the same thing; this was likely not going to go well.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ron asked. Faced with the sudden explosion from the witch, this was, in hindsight, very much the wrong thing to say.

"What's wrong? I'll tell you, _Ron._ You have the emotional depth of a teaspoon, and as much consideration for a person's feelings as Snape." Both Ron and Harry's eyebrows elevated significantly. The fact that Hermione would not only refer to the greasy git as something other than Professor Snape, but would openly disparage a staff member, spoke to how truly angry she was.

"You haven't said a word about the Forest last year, and all of a sudden it's a big joke to you? People almost died, and all you can think about is running your hands up my jumper!" She screeched. Her face very suddenly turned quite red and she realised that perhaps they were not as alone or unobserved as she'd originally thought, judging by the numerous eyes and attention spans firmly fixed on her and the object of her wrath. Bursting into a fresh round of tears, she made a hasty exit out the portrait hole leaving Ron, Harry and Ginny staring at each other open-mouthed.

"Does she really think that I have the emotional depth of a teaspoon?"

"Don't worry," Harry assured his friend. "She said that to me, too."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Harry."

"Did you really get a leg over on that?" someone asked, and Ron turned sharply to find no less than twelve eager faces anticipating his glorious retelling of the conquest of the resident bookworm.

Ron's face darkened and for half a second he seemed confused. The confusion, though, was replaced almost immediately by a wand pointing squarely in the face of the boy who asked. "McLaggen, if you so much as think about bothering her, they'll be scraping you off the inside of whatever classroom I find you in. That goes for the rest of you lot, you leave her alone!" Ron stood and stomped up the stairs to where Harry knew a bed was waiting for him.

"Maybe he didn't then?" another boy ventured.

"Had to have," McLaggen assured them. "No bloke would have acted that protectively if a bird turned him down, and didn't you hear what she said?"

"Perhaps you failed to hear why my brother said," Ginny piped up. "There are a fair number of us that value Hermione as a friend and I'd hate to see good Gryffindors wasted when Ron gets done with you."

"What's that gimpy toothpick going to do?" a seventh year scoffed. "Not much you can do about it either," he challenged further. Rather abruptly the older boy stiffened and turned slightly to reveal Neville digging a wand into the back of his head.

"Maybe she can't, but between the lot of us, who has fought more dark wizards, hmmm? More to the point, who in this room has killed a man?" Neville waited for a tense moment. "Speak up, I can't hear you. Kneazle got your tongue? I suggest, boys, you go away and leave my friends alone."

Several of the boys shot Neville and Ginny venomous looks, but all complied as Neville plopped down and joined their group.

"Neville, I don't mean to pry, but why did you bring that up? You didn't have to defend me," Ginny protested.

"If I'm going to have bloody great nightmares about offing a bloke, and it's going to bother me as much as it has, then I figure I might as well get something good out of it, too." Neville shrugged and turned, once again glaring at the remainder of the common room. Harry stood and pulled Ginny to her feet.

"I think I'm going to go turn in."

"Me too," Ginny agreed. "And, Neville?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for standing up for me."

"I'm sure anyone else would have, too, but I got there first, that's all."

"Thanks anyway." With that, both Ginny and Harry left Neville to his silent intimidation of the remaining Gryffindors.

As Harry climbed into bed, he cast several furtive glances at Ron, who seemed to be staring at the ceiling, while absentmindedly stroking Merlin's back.

'Leave him be. He'll tell you when he's ready, but from what I gather, Crookshanks' pet has a lot to answer for,' Merlin advised.

Finally as Harry began drifting off to sleep, Ron spoke, "Bloody girl is mad. I didn't mean to make her cry, I just wasn't thinking. Then when I try and fix it, all she does is explode at me. Charlie was right, I reckon."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"Don't trust anything that bleeds for seven days and doesn't die."

Harry sat up straight. "Why would you say that?"

"I didn't, Charlie did, right before he went to Romania. His girlfriend broke up with him because she didn't want to leave England. Right before he left, he told Fred, George and me. I never really understood what he was talking about before now."

"Ron, you did kind of humiliate her," Harry pointed out.

"I was trying to distract her! Bloody hell, it worked for you. I realised I was a git after the fact, but it's like she doesn't even want to hear that I'm sorry."

"You didn't actually apologise."

"I was going to, if she'd let me get a word in edgewise. I can't believe that girl."

"Believe it, or not, but I think starting out with an 'I'm sorry' might do you more good than ranting to me."

Ron stood, ejecting a disgruntled Merlin to the floor. "You're right. Can I borrow the cloak?"

"Sure, do you want the map, too?"

"Nah, thrill of the hunt. I need a little time to figure out what I'm going to say, as well."

"Good point," Harry agreed, digging the shimmering fabric from his trunk and tossing it to Ron. "Be good."

"I'll try, Harry."

As Ron left the room, Harry was faced with another dilemma. 'You cost me a nice pair of hands, Harry.'

"Sorry about that, but your pet has gone to patch some things up. If you wander about the common room, I'm sure someone else will be more than obliging."

Merlin's fur bristled a little at that. 'You make it sound like I'm some common house cat in need of a scratch. I'll wait for Ron to return, thank you very much.'

"Fine, but I'm headed to bed before the other blokes get in here. " With that, Harry climbed back into bed, closed the curtains and tried to find a comfortable spot for his first night back. After three months under the corn crib, beds always took a few days to get used to again.

oOo

"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherin, ughhh," Ron groaned.

"I don't think it will be that bad, compared to last year," Hermione pointed out.

"Nothing could be as bad as last year. Crookshanks nearly bit it, and we had a bloody great brawl," Ron retorted.

"I see they're talking again," Neville noted as the two continued to argue over whether or not Hagrid's class was going to be a total nightmare this year.

"Mhmmm…" Harry agreed.

"Hermione's eating again, too. Did she give up on her indignation about elf rights?"

"Nope, she just said something about there being better ways to handle it."

"Oh, bugger. You don't think she's going to do anything rash, do you?" Neville sounded worried as he covertly eyed the still arguing pair.

"Very likely, but that's why we're her friends."

"To get her out of trouble?"

"You did it for me," Ginny pointed out.

"But that was because you'd been kidnapped by a pair of evil wankers, not caught in a compromising position trying to convince house-elves to form a union," Neville countered.

"Either way you'd still do it. I'm off. Don't get in too much trouble, boys," Ginny smirked and then flounced away. Staring after her, Harry felt an odd yet unidentifiable sensation as he watched the sway of her hips. It reminded him, uncomfortably, of Rex.

"C'mon, mate. She's right," Neville prodded also standing.

"Do you think we should let the bickering duo know?"

"Nah, being late will teach them not to get into heady discussions over breakfast. Puts me off my toast."

"Fair enough." With that, both boys hurried from the hall towards the greenhouses.

Harry silently vowed to himself that never again would he purposefully allow Hermione to be late for a lesson. Both she and Ron had shown up nearly ten minutes late, still bickering, and had been docked ten points each by Professor Sprout. This caused the normally quite enjoyable class to deteriorate with the frequent glares and hostile silence both Neville and Harry received. It managed to continue through Care of Magical Creatures as well. Even the thrill of meeting a whole new species, despite how disgusting they really were, couldn't shake Hermione from her pout.

Returning to lunch, seemed to improve Hermione's appetite if not her actual mood. "You're going to make yourself puke, you know," Ron warned.

"Never mind, I have to get to the library."

"The library?" all three boys exclaimed simultaneously.

"Why on earth would you need that?" Neville asked.

"It's our first day back, we don't even have homework," Ron added.

"Never mind," Hermione replied, standing quickly. "I'm off. I'll see you all at dinner." With the final farewell, the young witch hurried out of the hall.

"What is it with her and leaving the table so quickly?" Ron asked,

"I think it mostly has to do with you," Ginny giggled. Ron shot her a glare that plainly said he was not amused.

"Bloody hell, Divination next," Ron groaned.

"Muggle Studies, for me," Harry offered. "Where's Merlin?"

"I saw him and Crookshanks headed out to the Forest," Ginny answered. "I think Crookshanks was going to introduce him."

"Hopefully no fights," Harry muttered.

"They can take care of themselves," Ginny assured him.

Muggle studies turned out to be rather eye opening, because despite the numerous times Harry had spent in Ottery St. Catchpole causing mayhem and havoc, he hadn't actually spent all that much time amongst its human inhabitants. So Harry was busily explaining to Ron and Neville the wonders of the Muggle world when they were set upon by a group of very likely suspects.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" came the loud voice of Draco Malfoy.

"C'mon, ignore the puppy," Harry advised, but as Malfoy began to loudly read the article that was far easier said than done.

"Arnold Weasley?" Malfoy taunted. "They couldn't even get his name right, it's like your dad is a complete nonentity. And look, there's a picture! That's your parents outside of their shed, or is that actually your house? Rather hard to tell with your Mum blocking most of it. Is it just the picture or is she really that porky in person?"

Ron had suddenly gone very still and for a few seconds his eyes closed. Harry had decided that perhaps walking away was no longer a viable course of action. This little ferret needed a lesson and Harry stepped back. Ron gave him a questioning glance.

"Have at him, mate. If you don't, I might. Your Mum's a good woman."

Ron turned slowly and in a flash his wand was out. Malfoy merely smirked. "Fancy a duel, Weasley?"

"I have a joke for you, Draco," Ron began in a calm tone, almost as though he were casually discussing the weather. "What do you get when you cross a Niffler with a broomstick? I don't remember the rest, but your mother's a whore."

"You leave my mother out of this," Draco hissed.

"Then piss off or I'll hex you beyond recognition," Ron shrugged. Harry was trying to understand how his friend could remain so calm.

"That's pretty big coming from you, Weasley," Draco scoffed.

"That's what your mother said," Ron retorted. "I believe she also used the words, better than my husband, delicious and something about biscuits."

"She could have been talking about baking," Harry calmly pointed out as he watched Draco's temper rise to a boiling point. Harry felt a little ashamed that he didn't give Ron credit for being to be able to match wits with the little blonde git, but based on Malfoy's reaction, Ron appeared to be winning.

"Only if her oven is baking a Weasley bun," Ron offered. "You understand, right Malfoy? After all, we Weasley's do have more children than we can afford. Good to put that fecundity to use, and Malfoys have more gold than brains, not that that's a hard thing to do, mind you, but do you think you'll like having a little redheaded brother?"

"My mother isn't pregnant!" Draco roared, and Ron smirked.

"If you say so," Ron's smirk deepened as he turned and began to walk away. "Though I'd hate to have gone through the trouble for nothing, and your father did pay so well."

"You were paid?" Harry gasped.

"Not like I'd touch the bint if I weren't," Ron quipped.

Very suddenly a loud 'BANG' was heard, and Ron was blown off his feet.

"Oh no you don't, laddie!" cried the unusual voice of Mad-Eye Moody. Where Draco had been a moment before, a large white ferret now stood. "Don't ever be attacking someone from behind. Rotten, scummy thing to do!" Harry watched in awe as Moody began to bounce the white ferret increasingly higher, but Ron's moan brought Harry to his side immediately.

"He's not doing so well, professor," Harry called out.

Moody's eye narrowed. "So, yeh fancy yerself heading down the same road as your father, eh? Perhaps this will give you a taste of what is in store for you."

"Alastor, what on earth are you doing?" Professor McGonagall asked, having just arrived.

"Teaching," Moody replied, as the ferret kept on bouncing higher.

"Professor, I might need a little help. This git has gone and put on some weight," Harry groaned, as he hefted Ron to his feet.

"What on earth happened?" McGonagall's voice rising ever so slightly, indicating her near loss of self control.

"Draco hexed Ron, and then Professor Moody transfigured the little bugger into a ferret. Not that he needed much help, but there you are. Now, Cous… er, Professor, could I please get some help. I don't know if I can carry this great lump all the way to the hospital wing."

Pursing her lips and with several deft motions of her wand, McGonagall conjured a floating stretcher and the immediately turned her attention back to Moody and the still bouncing ferret. With another wave of her wand, the ferret was once again Draco Malfoy, his pale blonde hair thoroughly dishevelled. "Professor, we do not use Transfiguration as a punishment, here at Hogwarts. I expect to see you in my office after supper to discuss this!" Without another word, McGonagall turned and began propelling the moaning Ron towards the Hospital wing, Harry trailing in their wake.

oOo

"I can't believe you let them take me to Madam Pomfrey," Ron grumbled.

"It wasn't like I had much of a choice. You weren't up for just popping back to the tower," Harry defended.

"She kept me there for two days. I missed the first day of almost all my lessons."

Harry snickered. "You skived off History of Magic, Charms and Potions. Do you really think you missed that much? You're starting to sound like Hermione. Though with as much as she moped and was visiting you, it makes me wonder."

"She wasn't visiting me!" Ron protested.

"Ron, not only are you a bad liar, and one should never lie to a Kneazle, but Hermione was conspicuously absent whenever she wasn't in classes. "

"Maybe she was in the library."

"We checked there. In fact Ginny watched the place for several hours just to make sure. Not to mention, you used the word 'fecundity'. That's not a word the Ron Weasley I know throws around at gits he doesn't like. I'm not even sure if the little toad sucker knew what that meant. Even I had to look it up."

Ron smiled dreamily. "I wish I hadn't missed the amazing bouncing ferret. That must have been brilliant."

"I'm more surprised that you didn't try to hex the bastard. I was definitely figuring on physical violence entering the mix," Harry observed.

Ron shrugged. "Uncle S, and I talked a lot this summer. He told me that you can't always hex your way out of a situation. Sometimes you have to use your head."

Harry chuckled. "And how's that going for you?"

"I don't always get it right, but I'm working on it," Ron shrugged.

"Well, we have defence in five minutes, so hopefully you'll get to practice both!"

As the boys entered the classroom they took seats next to Neville and Hermione. Ron leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"You alright, mate?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy is all," Ron mumbled.

"Ron, if you're feeling dizzy, you should go back to Madam Pomfrey. Do you think it's from the curses last year?" Hermione's hands twisted into what appeared to be exceedingly uncomfortable shapes as she fretted and theorized on the cause of Ron's ailments.

Opening one eye, Ron turned his head slightly towards the witch. "Hermione, could you do me a favour?"

"Of course! Do you need something?"

"Yes, I need you to shut up, please?" Ron nearly begged.

Hermione's response was hardly intelligible, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

"Alright, quiet! Put your books away, you won't need them. Now, I've seen you've studied Kappas, Redcaps, Hinkypunks…" Moody continued to list a variety of dark creatures, with each one his face became a little more stern. "But you're behind, terribly behind, in curses and dark magic. So, I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark Wizards."

The class looked confused. A low, "Figures" was heard from Ron.

"So, straight into curses." Apparently, according to Professor Moody at least, they weren't even supposed to be covering what curses looked like until their sixth year, but Dumbledore and Moody too, thought that they were made of stronger stuff than that. Harry had to agree. After all, nearly all the Gryffindors had faced a deranged mad man last year and four of them had been involved in a dramatic confrontation. "So…" Moody continued. "Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law?"

Ron's hand went up in the air so fast Harry thought it might have been there the whole time. "You're, Weasley, right?" Ron nodded. "You'd be Arthur Weasley's son, then. Your dad got me out of a spot of trouble a few days ago. Good man. Now, which curses do you know?"

"Cruciatus," Ron proclaimed with steel in his voice. Moody nodded a little.

"Not the first one I'd expect, but we'll make due." Taking a spider from a jar, the old Auror enlarged it and very suddenly cried, _"Crucio!"_ The spider's legs bent in upon its body and it began to rock back and forth violently. No sound came forth, but Harry could still hear the screams from Ron in the forest.

"That's enough!" Neville cried. Both he and Ron were pale as the sheets they slept in, and both had knowing looks in their eyes.

"Pain," Said Moody softly, reducing the spider and putting it back into the jar. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse."

"It's survivable," Ron muttered, finally averting his eyes.

"What was that, Mr. Weasley? I don't hold with muttering in class. If you've got something to say, speak up," Moody admonished. It seemed the grizzled dark wizard catcher didn't have magical hearing.

"I said, it's survivable."

"You'd think so, Mr. Weasley, but once you've had it on you there's nothing you won't do to avoid it again."

Ron smiled grimly and absentmindedly tapped his leg brace. Finally he shrugged and leaned back into his chair.

"Alright then, what else?"

Parvati's hand was up rather timidly. "The Imperius," she offered. Moody nodded sagely.

"Very popular, too. Lots of people were put under that. Made it difficult to tell who was friend and who was foe." Taking another spider from the jar, Moody whispered, "_Imperio,"_ and very suddenly the spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing like a trapeze artist. For another minute it continued its acrobatic stunts, to increasing laughter.

"Think it's funny?" Moody growled. "Total control is what this is. I could make it jump out a window, or drown itself, or throw itself down one of your throats. The curse can be fought, but the best way is to avoid being hit with it. CONSTANT VIGALANCE!" Moody barked, throwing the spider back into the jar.

"Any others?" he finally asked.

Hermione's hand went up this time. "The Killing Curse." Hermione's voice was a little softer than normal, but seemed full of fire.

"Ahh yes, the Killing Curse," Moody agreed, and proceeded to demonstrate the final of the Unforgivable curses on the spider. The rush of green light and wind were all that signalled the death of the arachnid. Harry shuddered at the realization that what he saw here was what his human parents must have seen too, but from a very different perspective. The knowledge of what they faced to keep him safe was a little sobering, as well as giving him a new respect for the bravery they had shown in protecting him. His mouth twitched upwards, just a little. Maybe they were part Kneazle too?

The rest of the class was spent taking notes, and when they finally were released, Ron and Neville hurried out before everyone else.

Harry and Hermione followed in their wake.

"You alright, mate?" Neville asked.

"I'm ok. I haven't thought about it too much, you know? Sometimes I get nightmares about it, but I haven't seen it used on anyone else, and it's a bit different when you're the one under the wand," Ron's voice drifted around the corner. Harry wordlessly put up his hand to stop Hermione from rushing in. Even with the emotional depth of a teaspoon, it was obvious to Harry that this was private time. They began to slowly back away, but Harry's acute hearing couldn't block out their conversation.

"I kind of know what you mean. All I could think about was my parents," Neville confessed. "But then you've been through it too. Do you think Moody knows what you went through?"

"Not unless someone told him. It isn't like I asked for it to be published in the bloody Prophet," Ron growled.

"What was it like?" Neville finally asked.

"The worst thing you can imagine, Nev, but then add a hundred."

"Would you do it again? I mean, you got hit twice, and Moody said…"

"I know what he said," Ron interrupted. "And that's where he's wrong. I never want to go through it again, but I'd rather it be me than any one of you. At least I'm already useless." Finally their conversation was too dim for even Harry's ears and he and Hermione made their way quickly down to dinner.

Ron was nowhere to be seen during dinner and when Harry asked Neville, a shrug was all the answer he got. Even Merlin was little help. 'He said he wanted to be alone for a bit.'

Harry sighed. Hermione was becoming obviously distressed at the situation and finally after her nineteenth sigh and eighth comment about how she should really write that potion's essay, Harry stood and retrieved his cloak and the map, carefully hidden beneath his school robes.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go find the git."

"But I really should get working on this potion's essay and don't you have something for Muggle studies?"

Harry raised both eyebrows incredulously. "You don't have to pretend, Hermione. Come on." Hermione nodded once and followed Harry out the portrait hole.

After hiding themselves beneath the cloak and activating the Marauder's Map, it still took a good deal of searching to find their wayward friend. "He's in the Astronomy tower," Hermione breathed. "Why on earth would he be there? He's awfully lucky. I don't think there are lessons going on right now."

"I dunno, let's find out, shall we?" Hermione nodded in agreement and they both set off. The gloom felt more oppressive than normal, giving their mission an additional sense of urgency.

"Ron!" Hermione squeaked, as they ascended the last stair. The boy in question was sitting on the stone floor of the tower staring at the sky.

"Whoss th-re?" he mumbled, the words so slurred Harry could have guessed his recent activities, even without the overwhelming stench of liquor assaulting his sensitive Kneazle nose.

"Ron, have you been drinking?" Hermione asked, clearly shocked, whipping the cloak off and handing it to Harry.

"No… well, mebbe? I can still fin' my arse wit my own two 'ands. Bill alwus said you weren' pissed if you could do tha'. You gonna tell McGungal?"

"He's totally pissed, Hermione."

"I can't believe… Why would he do that? Ron, why would you do that?"

"Snot fair!" Ron shouted and he took another swig from a bottle both Hermione and Harry had missed when they first arrived. "I don' get ta do anythin. No Quidtch fer me, no Aurr fer me, I'm gonna work mag-cal main… main… fixin' stuff. No fam-ly fer me either," Ron continued. "Is alright fer the spider, innit? He ges to go back and be catchin' flys and scarin' the shite outta pepul, but not Ron. No, I was always the lillest one and now I'm the broken one too. Mum's always got that look in-er eye. The one that says, 'poor Ronnie, now 'e can't do nuthin fer 'imself.' Well I'll show 'er! I may not be able to do nothin, but I can do somethin'! I'll be a Tri-Wizard Champion, then she'll wan' me, crippled leg an all."

"Ron," Hermione whispered. "Of course your Mum wants you. She loves all of you."

"Not Mum. She luvs me… course she does. I'm talkin' bout… Oh, hello, Hermione!" Ron's face brightened considerably. "We was jus' talking bout you. Weren' we, Fred?"

"I'm Harry," Harry replied, failing to hide a smirk.

"Are you? You know, George is in love with my sister."

"What are you talking about? George is your brother!" Harry squawked.

"Not you George, Harry! Tha's what I said, Fred. Harry is in love with George."

"I really don't think he is," Hermione said, obviously trying to stifle a giggle.

"Sure he is. You seen the way he looks a' her?" Ron took another swig from the nearly empty bottle. "I'd give anythin' to have a bird look at me like tha'. I'm too dum for her, tho. She gonna marry a Birdieclaw, and they gonna have little bushy haired book worm, know-it-all babies. I never even got to…"

"I think you've had just about enough, mate," Harry interrupted, moving to relieve his friend of the bottle.

"Stay away from me, George! You gave it to me an' said no take-backs! Asides… I hannent thrown up…" As though on command, Ron's eyes bulged. He stood hastily and wobbled to the edge of the tower, barely making it in time before he emptied the contents of his stomach over the side. Harry's nose wrinkled with disgust at the smell. Ron continued his self purge for another few minutes until it was glaringly obvious that his stomach was as empty as the Potion's Classroom on Saturday.

"I don' feel so good," Ron moaned, leaning up against Hermione for support.

"Oh, you thick-headed stubborn idiot!" Hermione chastised. "What made you think you could drink a whole bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky?"

"I didn' drink the whole bottle. There's still a drop left!" Ron pointed to the bottle clutched in Harry's hand. "Drop… drop… drop… Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Please don' drop me." With that final pronouncement Ron's eyes shut and his body went limp in her arms.

"What do we do now?" Hermione groaned, struggling not to drop her friend.

"We get him back to the tower, I suppose. The couple times Sebastian went on a bender Arabella tucked him into bed and left him there until the next morning, or she fixed him a good cup of tea."

"We don't have any tea!"

"Then we put him to bed."

"What if something happens?" she worried aloud.

"Well, you're welcome to stay with him, if you want, though my roommates might have a question or two."

Hermione huffed. "Fine, but you're helping me carry him. He's too heavy for me."

Harry pulled out his cloak and map and stared with horror at the small moving dots on the parchment. "Hermione, Filch is coming this way!"

"Get under the cloak!"

"It's not going to fit all three of us with Ron in that condition, and what if the git wakes up? We'll all get pinched for sure. Sit down in the corner," Harry commanded. Hermione obeyed, with Harry helping her to lower their inebriated friend to the floor. With a small flourish, Harry covered both of them with his Invisibility Cloak. "Mischief managed," he muttered, clearing the map. Taking the last bit of the Firewhisky, Harry poured a little in his mouth and dumped the rest over the front of his robes. "Bleech!" Harry grimaced as he spat the foul, burning liquid on the steps. Striding purposefully to the edge of the tower steps, Harry took one step down and then another, allowing his body to move in the same jerky and unfocused manner that he'd seen with Ron. Then… he began to sing. "How many toes does a fish have and how many wings on a cow? I wonder, yup I wonder. Ohhh… Snip, snap, paddywhack, kick a dog at home, I have big, old rolling stones!" They lyrics were improvised and the melody was both off key and atrocious, but it worked as the villainous face of Argus Filch came into view, gleaming madly.

"What do we have here?" The caretaker smiled fiendishly.

"Tha' was a silly question squibbly!" Harry shouted, pointing a finger wildly at the Hogwarts' caretaker.

"What did you call me?" Filch asked, his face darkening.

"Squibbly, squabbly, squib-kadoo!" Harry paused for a moment and then stumbled further down the staircase, attempting to bypass the fuming caretaker.

"You're coming with me!" Filch declared, grabbing the 'drunk' student by his arm. Harry allowed himself to be led down the stairs and to the office of Cousin McGonagall, the whole time alternately insulting his escort and singing odd and nonsensical songs.

"Martin Miggs was a mad, mad Muggle and a mad, mad Muggle was he! Dressed from head to foot in ashes and soot," Harry sang as a very irritated Filch deposited him, unceremoniously into a chair in the Deputy Headmistress's office. After three more songs and two guesses as to the caretaker's favourite past times (skipping stones and shaking his arse for fivers stuffed in his pants were both not on the top of the older man's daily to do list, Harry learned), McGonagall arrived, obviously in no mood to be trifled with.

"Thank you, Argus, that will be all," McGonagall offered as soon as she entered, forestalling the rant that seemed to be forthcoming. Instead, the irate caretaker nodded and ambled out the door with as much dignity as Harry had let him keep. McGonagall pressed her fingers together and stared at her student with enough intensity that Harry though she might be trying to glare a hole in him.

"You aren't drunk, Mr. Potter," McGonagall stated. It wasn't a question.

"How do you know?"

A ghost of a smile touched the professor's lips, "I was not always a Professor, Harry. Now, I say again, you are not intoxicated."

"No, I suppose not," Harry allowed.

"Then, you will explain why you are sitting in my office reeking of liquor and hoarse in the throat from singing some of the most bizarre songs I've heard."

"I was the DD tonight," Harry responded. At McGonagall's questioning expression he elaborated, "Designated decoy."

"I see. Why would you need to decoy for anyone?"

"I didn't want them to get in trouble."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter and you will be serving the next two weekends in detention with Professor Snape."

"Is that all then?"

"You wouldn't care to tell me who you were covering for, perhaps?"

"If I told you that, then I wouldn't be a very good decoy. I promise it won't happen again, Cousin."

"Make sure it doesn't, Mr. Potter. However, as long as Professor Moody doesn't give in class demonstrations of the Unforgivable Curses again, I think the likelihood of a relapse is somewhat limited. I would recommend, however, that should Mr. Weasley wake during the night you advise him to drink plenty of water. Potions will be far less painful that way."

Harry turned and began sputtering. "How…" was all he could manage.

McGonagall smiled in a predatory manner as she fixed her gaze firmly on her student. "You would do well to remind Miss Granger that being invisible does nothing to deaden sound. Now, you have some friends, whose names I surely don't know, to attend to."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry murmured.

"You get this one for free, Cousin. Don't do it again." Harry nodded and hurried out the door back to the common room, his head spinning with confusion.

_AN: UPDATE MAN strikes again. With the backing of TEAM UPDATE and an infusion of Creativity, UPDATE MAN once again strikes a blow for fanfiction writers everywhere! Here's an early Christmas present to all my loyal and wonderful readers. I'm sorry about delays previously, and it doesn't look like the situation is going to improve much, but I hope to work on improving the time from conception to publishing. _

_As a side note: Several pieces of dialogue were quoted from 'The Goblet of Fire'. Most all of it was Moody. I thank Ms. Rowling for allowing us the use of her splendid works and no plagiarism was intended here. I would simply like to note that there was no good reason for the character in question not to have said what he did in the book! It was really well written, too. Thanks for reading and thanks for your reviews. I hope this chapter satisfies .-Manatoc Fox_


	7. New Ideas

"Bloody hell, would she just let me be?" Ron moaned. "It's been a week already and she won't stop nagging me about my 'drinking habits'!"

"You did manage to frighten us both and ruin one of her pairs of shoes. Not to mention who knows what else you might have said after she tried to take you back to the tower." Harry noted.

"I said I was sorry. Seeing the curse in class just did me in a bit. I told her it won't happen again. I'll even buy her a new pair if I can figure out where to get the money, and don't even mention anything I said. I was drunk, it doesn't count and I don't remember it anyway."

Harry shook his head at his friend's obvious plight. "Well, we have Defence again in ten minutes, so I hope you do better this time."

"As long as we don't have to see that bloody curse again, I'll be fine. Have you seen Merlin recently? He didn't come home last night."

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I introduced him to the Pride, here in the Forbidden Forest, and he hasn't wanted to spend much time away from them. Father isn't particularly happy, but that's what happens when four of his daughters get into a fight over one scruffy looking tom."

Ron stopped and stared incredulously. "You're telling me that my Kneazle has four girls chasing after him?"

"No, four who were willing to fight about it in front of their father. I know of at least six that want to mate him."

"Bloody hell, my cat's going to get a girl before I am," Ron muttered.

"That's not really fair, Ron. Kneazles do age faster than we do. I mean Merlin is about forty-two in our years. He's getting over the hill at this point. Most Kneazles would have mated a year or two ago."

"So it's a three-to-one thing?"

"Something like that. I'm not sure exactly, but most Kneazles won't live past thirty and most humans won't live past ninety. We age a bit faster in early development and then slow down once we've matured."

Ron chuckled, "So where does that leave you? You're no more mature than I am."

"I don't know. I've grown a bit, I can see that, and you have to admit I don't exactly look like I'm fourteen anymore."

"No, but you're still a scrawny git." Ron knew this wasn't really a fair assessment, as Harry had appeared to be a little larger than most of his classmates. He and Ron were still about the same size, but Harry definitely had his muscles defined in a way Ron couldn't hope to yet. Not that he'd noticed, certainly. He didn't look at blokes like that, Ron assured himself. He simply was noticing all the changes in his friends. For example, Lavender had managed to somehow procure a very nice…

"Ron, we're here. Quit daydreaming about Lavender's arse."

"Whaaa? I wasn't!" Ron sputtered. Harry smirked.

"You're an open book, mate. You only get that far away look when Hermione starts talking about her elf rights group…"

"SPEW," Ron interjected.

"Yes, that, or when you've seen a particularly lovely female backside. As Lavender Brown was the last one to walk in the classroom I can safely assume you were thinking about some things I think you'd rather not tell Hermione about."

"What's Hermione got to do with anything?" Ron demanded.

"Well, you get that tense scrunched kind of look when she wears her brown jumper and has to stretch, like right after she finishes her History of Magic Essay. So I can only assume you were staring at her…"

"Leave it, Harry," Ron growled. "How do they manage to get form fitting robes, anyway? I mean isn't the point to be somewhat flowing and obfuscating?" Ron grumbled to himself. "Bloody hell, has to be a charm."

Another few minutes of small talk which stayed as far away from female attributes as was possible, or at least as was possible with Seamus in the room, finally brought the grizzled Defence professor in.

"Quiet!" Moody barked. "Today, you're going to learn what it feels like to be put under the Imperius Curse."

"Professor, isn't that illegal?" Lavender asked, her voice squeaking just a little. Moody smiled in a manner that no one mistook as being friendly.

"Why yes, it is, Miss Brown. However, so is strangling someone to death. Joseph Foster is in Azkaban right now for doing just that, and he claimed he was under the Imperius the whole time. Perhaps if he'd been exposed to it in school he might not have fallen victim. It is possible to fight the curse. Many have done so, but the best way is to avoid being hit in the first place, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody roared.

"He said that the first day," Dean muttered. Moody's magical eye immediately fixed on the mumbling boy.

"Perhaps you'd care to be the first demonstration, Mr. Thomas?"

When Dean hesitated, Moody added, "That wasn't a suggestion, boy. Front and centre. Step lively, now!"

Harry watched in fascination as Dean hopped three times around the room singing a variety of bawdy tavern lyrics. When he was finished, Moody scanned the crowd. "Who's next?" Harry's hand shot up.

"Mate, are you mental? You've no idea what he'll make you do," Ron hissed.

Harry smiled calmly at his friend. "Still your heart, my friend, for today I face my destiny. Seriously, Ron, it'll be fine. No worries." With that, Harry confidently strode to the front of the room and gave the professor a cocky grin.

Moody raised his wand, "_Imperio!"_ Harry felt himself become suddenly very light. A sense of vague, untraceable happiness settled over his mind and a little voice in the back of his head was applauding him. "Good," it said. "Now I can do what I want to do. Nothing else to worry about."

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Moody spoke gently, "Jump onto the desk," it said.

The little voice in the back of his head scoffed. "Why would I want to do that? Silly thing to do, really. Not that jumping on desks is all bad, mind you, but without a sunbeam or something to coax one over, not much point."

"Jump onto the desk," Moody's voice insisted, a little more sharply.

"Jump yourself, you old scratching post. I think I'll take a bath."

"Jump! NOW!"

"Oh piss off. I'll jump when I want to, and not a moment before." The loud laughter of his fellow classmates shook any lingering cobwebs from his brain and Harry belatedly realized that he had, in fact, said the last bit out loud.

"A natural resistance?" Moody cocked one eye. "I've never had someone fight it so easily the first time. Have a seat, Potter. Now," Moody addressed the rest of the class, "You see it can be done. The curse can be fought. Longbottom, you next." Harry watched as the rest of his classmates performed moves that ranged from the highly embarrassing to the acrobatically challenging, and he'd just looked over to sneak a peek out the window when another cry of "_Imperio!"_ was heard and the light-headed sensation came back.

"Bloody hell," the little voice murmured. "Haven't we done this already?"

"Dance on your toes," Moody's voice commanded.

"Look, that's even sillier than the jumping on a desk. If you want me to do anything, I demand treats and petting," the voice in Harry's head replied.

"Dance like a ballerina," Moody's voice was more insistent this time.

Harry felt like rolling his eyes. Perhaps this Moody man wasn't any better than Lockhart proved to be. "No, I'm due for a bath, though," the little voice answered back, and that, Harry decided, seemed like a really good idea.

From across the aisle Hermione stared hard at her friend. Something was wrong. Harry's eyes went glassy like the others, but he hesitated. When he started licking the back of his hand, and rubbing over his face, Hermione was positive something was up. This was too… feline for their Professor to have come up with, but everyone except possibly Ron thought that Harry had been ensnared. When he raised his leg vertically and fell out of the chair, Hermione knew for sure. What was he doing instead, though? Sneaking a glance at the professor, his face was a mask, but she thought that there was a faint trace of confusion.

"Done for today," Moody ordered. "Eighteen inches of parchment for next class on the signs of the Imperious."

As Harry struggled to his feet he noticed his friends leaving and made to follow them, resisting the urge to smirk until he was well out of eyesight of their professor.

"Harry, what on earth did you do?" Hermione demanded.

Ron and Neville were both eying him as well. "Have you ever known a Kneazle to do exactly what you told them to? We're independent-minded creatures, Hermione. Pity Moody didn't know that. He needn't have bothered trying to put me under."

"Why were you licking your hand?" Neville demanded.

"A bath seemed like a good idea, that's all."

Ron let out a bark of laughter at the stunned expression on Neville's face. "You never cease to amaze me, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose that's a good thing."

"Keeps it interesting, that's for sure," Ron agreed. "I think I'm going to write that essay while it's still fresh."

Neville's wand was in his hand as both he and Hermione eyed the ginger boy critically. "What's that for, mate?" Ron squeaked.

"Who are you and what have you done with Ron?" Neville demanded.

"What are you on about?"

"Ron never does his homework on time, let alone the same day. Where were you this evening a week ago?" Hermione demanded.

"I was bloody pissed in the Astronomy tower, from what you lot tell me," Ron huffed. "That good enough to end the bloody inquisition?"

"Sorry, mate," Neville apologised, putting away his wand. "But just as Moody says, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"You're mental," Ron muttered.

"Maybe," Neville allowed, "But I don't want to get caught unprepared again. Not after last year. Now, who's hungry?" Neville walked briskly towards the Great Hall and the smell of dinner.

"I don't know that I'll understand him," Ron complained. "He changes direction faster than a Blitzenberg seven-fifty-seven."

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"Bloody brilliant broom. German wizards engineered it, but it's Yank built. They built it for dragon handlers mostly. Not terribly fast, mind you, but it will turn on a Knut. Charlie and his mates use them on the preserve."

"When did you learn about that?" Harry asked, surprised. If it wasn't a Quidditch broom, Harry wasn't sure Ron knew it existed.

Ron merely shrugged. "He and I got to talk a bit, that's all. Besides, there's more to life than Quidditch, you know."

Both Hermione and Harry simply stared after their friend.

"Are you still sure that isn't someone disguised as Ron?" Harry murmured.

"I'm not sure," Hermione responded. "That was shockingly…"

"Mature," Harry supplied.

"Indeed, but as someone said, dinner awaits. Shall we?"

"You're starting to sound like Ron," Harry observed. Hermione's glare did nothing to make him change his opinion on the matter.

oOo

Harry knocked on the Potion Master's classroom door and a darkly muttered "Enter," was heard from within. Smiling broadly, Harry bounded into the dark underground classroom and barely managed to suppress a shudder while maintaining a large grin on his face.

"Good evening, Professor. What shall I be assisting you with tonight?" Snape glared daggers at the irrepressible ball of energy. "Will we be battling greasy goose guts, boiled bicorn bits, or perhaps even the dreaded, yet eminently conquerable, dried flobberworm fungus?"

Snape continued to glare. "You are a menace, Potter," Snape spat. "One that I will be glad to see the end of. In the meantime, you'll be scrubbing out those cauldrons by hand. Some fifth years managed to dry a bit of their Bubotuber puss on the inside. So try not to touch it."

"Menace? Is that all?" Harry inquired as he grabbed a brush and began scrubbing the first of the cauldrons. He held back a hiss each time a bit of the essence struck his bare skin. "I should think you could be much more creative than that," Harry offered. "Perhaps I'm a nuisance, or a pest, though those are too tame for me. I think I could be a threat, certainly. Possibly a plague, even." Harry continued to muse while scrubbing, talking just loudly enough to ensure that his Potion's Professor could make out each word, yet softly enough that one might mistake his ramblings for the sort of rhetorical conversation that one might employ while performing a particularly unenviable task.

"I know!" Harry exclaimed as he set a thoroughly scrubbed cauldron upright and made his way to the next. "I'm a blistering boil on the backside of Wizardkind! I think that should thoroughly sum up the whole of my existence. Would you agree, Professor?" Harry chirped. Snape's eyes merely focused with an intense loathing and a small growl of discontent resonated from the back of his throat. With no answer, Harry continued. "Perhaps not, then. I'm very sorry, Professor, I simply can't decide on an appropriate adjective. Menace just seems so… bland." And thus it went for the next several hours. Harry happily (or at least appearing to be) scrubbing away at cauldrons and pondering the mysteries of life to a very silent Severus Snape. Finally Snape spoke.

"You're free to go, Potter. However, tomorrow I am busy. I will speak to McGonagall about changing your detention to another professor."

"Oh, are you sure, Professor?" Harry nearly whinged. "I hope I didn't do anything to upset you, or are you just out of cauldrons for me to scrub? I could gut the newts for potion ingredients if you want."

"Get out!" Snape roared and Harry, needing no further bidding, very nearly ran out the door.

Once out of earshot, the menace began to skip along the corridor humming merrily to himself. He tried and failed to hide the large grin blossoming on his face.

"How'd it go?" Ginny asked as soon as Harry stepped through the portrait hole. The common room was nearly deserted and it seemed that only Ginny, Fred, George, Ron and a rather impatient Hermione had waited up for him.

"Brilliant! Just like you suggested, Sparkplug. He's reassigning me to another professor for tomorrow night."

"What did you do?" Fred asked, gobsmacked. "I've never heard of Snape turning down a chance to torment a Gryffindor, and you must be on the top of his hate slate."

"I pretended to enjoy it," Harry remarked a little too casually.

"What?" Hermione demanded. "You told us the things he was making you do, how could you have possibly enjoyed it?"

"I didn't say I enjoyed it, Hermione. I just pretended to. If he can't get to you, he doesn't know what to do with you, and thanks to these two gits," Harry jerked his thumb at Fred and George, "I'm more than passable at Potions."

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron began. "You're the best Gryffindor in the year except Hermione and no one can touch her."

"Not true," Harry countered. "Seamus is a fair bit better than I am."

"He's always blowing things up."

"Yes, but he gets away with it. I think he's just bored and wants to test new potions out."

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "You and your ridiculous theories. Now, who do you have tomorrow?"

"Who cares?" Ginny nearly shouted. "It worked, it bloody well worked! I bet the greasy bat will try and pawn you off to any other teacher he can. I can't believe it worked. I mean what did you say to him?"

Harry shrugged. "We just had a discussion about better words than 'menace'."

"There has got to be a better explanation than that," Fred scoffed.

"Ask him yourself if you're so sure," Harry shot back. "In the meantime, I'm off to see the Pride. Coming, Ginny?"

Ginny smirked, "Of course."

The forest was cool and the shadows deep, which suited Harry perfectly. His black form seemed to appear and disappear at intervals and Ginny had a hard time keeping up, despite her long legs.

'Anyone home?' Harry mewled at the entrance to the den and was met a moment later by several disgruntled toms and Rex

'You've got to do something, Harry,' the first tom complained. 'Your brother is driving Mum absolutely crazy and Father is just about to kill him.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah,' the second continued. 'Half the mollies are mooing over him like they're in heat. They are always off hunting for moles and mice trying to impress him.'

'I don't see what's so special about him,' Rex grumped.

'You're just bitter because he doesn't like you as much as Huffie and Selwyna.'

'Shut it, Mopar!' Rex snapped, the fur on the back of her neck bristling dangerously.

'Would everyone please calm down?' Ginny huffed. 'I'm going to go talk to them, and if Merlin is being a pain then I'll sort him out.'

'Is she mated?' Mopar asked eagerly, as soon as he was reasonably sure she was out of hearing range.

'She's a lioness,' Harry countered. 'You couldn't handle her.'

'Hey!' Mopar mewed indignantly, 'I'm big for a Kneazle.'

'Not where it counts. Your paws are tiny,' Harry retorted and was summarily pounced for his trouble.

'Toms,' Rex sighed and decided to take a bath and studiously ignored the two roughhousing boys.

As Ginny and Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning a new surprise awaited them. "Hermione and Ron are arguing again," Neville mumbled while chewing his breakfast. His tone indicated a sense of awe and astonishment

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's hardly a surprise."

"Yes, but they're arguing about school," Neville emphasized.

"Still not new."

"Ron's trying to get borrow her notes," Neville sighed.

"Neville, have you lived with us for the past three years?" Harry asked. "That's again hardly something to write home about."

"Her Arithmancy notes," Neville offered.

Both Harry and Ginny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Told you," Neville grumped.

"Hey, Ron!" Ginny shouted, momentarily breaking up the arguing duo. "It's too early to argue about school, why don't you eat something?"

"Because Hermione won't let me borrow her Arithmancy notes," Ron huffed and eyed Hermione combatively. "And I'm not leaving until I get them."

"Honestly, Ron! You aren't even taking the class. I'll need those for revision when we take our O.W.L. levels."

"Bloody hell, woman, do you hear yourself? Those aren't even until next year."

"And if you lose them between now and then how am I supposed to duplicate them, hmmm? I'll have a whole year lost."

"Please give me some credit. I don't lose everything I touch."

"Why do you need them anyway, you're not even in the class." Hermione eyed her friend suspiciously.

"I had a question about Transfiguration and McGonagall said she could explain it to me but I'd need a bit of Arithmancy. I figured you would rather I try and work it out on my own, rather than just pester you for the information."

Hermione sat up a little straighter and stared disbelievingly at her friend. "That's remarkably mature of you, Ron."

Dean and Seamus had a fit of simultaneous coughing, "Liar… Wanker." At least that is what it almost sounded like, though they may both have just been coming down with a bad cold. Ron's glare silenced them after another few moments.

Hermione silently handed a sheaf of parchment that Ron took and carefully tucked into his knapsack. Then, without another word, they both began eating. "Ron, slow down!" Hermione reprimanded. "You eat like a pig!"

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron apologised, his mouth still stuffed with food. "Haf' to get ta McGongall. Homework." Ron swallowed his food after another few compulsory chews and then nearly bolted from the hall.

"Is it just me, or did Ron seem eager to work on something that isn't Quidditch?" Dean asked rhetorically.

"He does have other interests, you know," Hermione responded stiffly. "He can be quite deep sometimes."

"Hermione, you said he had the emotional depth of a teaspoon." Hermione's face flamed red and after another few bites of breakfast she excused herself as well.

"If those two don't start snogging soon…" Dean shook his head and let the sentence hang. A few more minutes and he clapped Seamus on the shoulder and they both rose.

"That was something to watch, wasn't it?" Neville asked. Ginny smirked and nodded. "I wonder what he really wanted those notes for, though."

"You didn't believe him?" Harry asked.

Neville smiled a little, "Not for a moment."

oOo

"Ron, it's been weeks. I need those notes back. Surely Professor McGonagall has had a chance to answer your question," Hermione huffed. The young witch's arms were crossed and her foot stamped the floor angrily.

Ron held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hermione, I'll give them back, but I need them for a little longer. They're really quite fascinating. Just a little longer, please?"

At Ron's proclamation of interest in Arithmancy, Harry's head snapped up from the game of Gobstones he and Neville were deeply involved in. "I don't bloody believe it," Ginny whispered. "My own brother, taking an interest in Maths?" Harry's eyes narrowed on his friend.

"I'm not so sure, he is your brother anymore. It seems like each day he gets a little stranger, and where is he always disappearing to?"

"Haven't you been able to follow him?"

"He's more astute than ever, Sparkplug, and as good as I am, following someone in a deserted castle corridor when you're my size isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"Ask Merlin," Ginny shrugged. "He's my brother's keeper, after all."

"I would if he would be social. He's been in a state for weeks now."

"Because I told him off?"

"No, Crookshanks and he had a row."

"What on earth do cats have to fight about?" Neville asked with disbelief.

"Same things we do, mate. Mollies, mostly."

"So Ron and Hermione's cats had a row over a girl?"

"Mrs. Norris, specifically," Harry clarified.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Neville gagged.

"Not here, the carpet is new."

"Bloody hell," Ginny cursed. "I swear, hormones hit and the whole castle goes bonkers. Well, at least we have the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrivals to look forward to tomorrow."

"Is that tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Still thinking about entering?" Neville pressed. Harry shrugged.

"I don't think so. I mean it isn't as though I need the money and the fame is just a bother. I don't like random people trying to touch me now."

"They still do that?"

Ginny laughed. "Only once in awhile." She pointed at Ron and Hermione. "Oh good, the lovebirds have stopped fighting. How long do you think that will last?"

"Breakfast, because then she'll remember about the house-elves again."

Harry sighed. "She has been on a bit of a tear about that, hasn't she?"

"Has she even talked to a house-elf?" Neville asked.

"Not that I'm aware of, but that wouldn't make a difference. She's got an idea and it's rather like a dog with a bone," Ginny said, rolling onto her back.

oOo

The next day was interesting from the start. There was an air of anticipation, along with indigestion, Ron complained as Neville's prediction of a fight at breakfast seemed to be well founded. Hermione had once again tried to convince Ron of the rightness of her cause, and he had gently attempted to rebuff her. Well, he might have thought it was gentle, but even Harry could understand how 'Could you quit yammering my ear off until after I've eaten. I'll be happy to pretend to listen then' might be construed as somewhat combative. Both Ron and Harry's lack of interest seemed only to fuel her desire, much to the detriment of both boys' appetites. Ginny found the whole thing amusing until she and Neville were added to the list of potential conscripts.

Finally, Ginny attempted to engage her older two brothers in conversation in an attempt to escape the lecture about 'indentured servitude'. "You two still planning on trying to enter the Tournament?" She asked. Fred and George smiled.

"Of course, little sister. Need the gold, after all."

"What do you need the gold for?" Ron inquired, eager for any distraction.

"Our prospective future, dear brother," Fred began.

"Two fine enterprising gentlemen such as we need a large amount of gold in order to finance ourselves in business," George continued, his tone getting more pompous and obnoxious as he went.

"Oh, very much, dear chap," Fred took over once again. "The notoriety would serve us equally well once we are Ministers of Magic."

"You can't both be," Ron pointed out, between snorts of laughter.

"I daresay, the lanky fellow is right!" George exclaimed. "Perhaps I shall kill you after all. I challenge you to a duel." Rising from his seat slightly, George produced a hastily conjured glove and slapped his twin across the face. A moment of silence on Fred's part gave way to raucous laughter.

"Bloody hell," Fred began, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, we're planning on entering, providing we can get around the age limit."

"I've no doubt in your ability to break the rules," Hermione sniffed and turned back to her breakfast, obviously put out at the concerted effort to derail her SPEW recruitment drive.

"Well then, I suppose it will be best if we don't disappoint," Fred winked and smirked and returned to his own breakfast. The conversation tended toward the mundane after that. The anticipation dulled even the pain of Potions, though the look on Snape's face when Harry succeeded in brewing a potion almost as good as Draco Malfoy, Snape's golden student, seemed to put even Hermione in a better mood. Finally, the students began to assemble in front of the castle.

"Blimey, my leg is killing me. It's not hurt this badly all year," Ron complained as they hastened towards the assembling mass of students. The shoving crowd soon caused Harry to lose sight of Ron and without further direction he moved closer to Hermione. They did all tend to end up together, after all.

The Heads of Houses began to order their students in line, while attempting to correct any deviance in the appearance of the mass of children.

Harry stood between Hermione and Lavender Brown in the fourth row, waiting with baited breath on the arrival.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "Where's Ron?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered back, craning his neck around to try and locate their friend. After a few seconds of searching he spotted the wayward Weasley walking slowly next to a much smaller first year girl. Her robes clearly marked her as a Hufflepuff, but they were on the opposite side of the courtyard, so instead Ron steered her to the front of the Gryffindor line. As she passed, the glassy eyes and red cheeks told Harry that she'd been crying, and her torn robes suggested an accident of a forceful sort. Ron's eyes were hardened as he passed his year mates, as if daring them to challenge him, and a brief moment later, he was giving his small charge a reassuring smile, before standing resolutely next to her on the end.

"Mr. Weasley, what do you think you are…" McGonagall's reprimand was cut very short by a loud shout and a sixth year pointing at a large object rapidly approaching.

"It's a dragon!"

"That's stupid. Dragons are dangerous; it's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey shouted. While Harry had to admit, that would have been spectacular, the truth was even better. A dozen winged palomino horses, each the size of an elephant pulled a giant coach.

"Don't even think about it," Hermione warned.

"What?"

"You were thinking about going up and trying to make friends with them."

"Isn't that what this tournament is all about, international cooperation?" Harry defended.

"I didn't mean the students, Harry. You're not trying to befriend the horses until after the teachers let us leave."

Harry pouted a little. "I wasn't going to," he denied, but the reddening of his ears belied the truth.

A few people gasped, as the size of the carriage and horses were immediately explained. The woman stepping out of the carriage was the largest Harry had ever seen. She was dressed in black satin and pearls, with shoes every bit the size of Hagrid's boots.

"What are you smiling at?" Hermione hissed, noting the ear-splitting grin that had planted itself firmly on Harry's face.

"Hagrid's got a mate!"

"What? I doubt he's even met her before."

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Hermione. No ordinary human could possibly hope to hold her attention. As long as he brings her something suitable as a gift she can't refuse him. Ohhh… can you imagine their children? I mean, seriously, they'd squish McGonagall when they were two."

"Well, shut up for now, and don't embarrass us," Hermione warned. "Let Hagrid decide for himself if he's even interested."

"I wonder why he's not here?" Harry wondered.

The question was answered by Dumbledore as he explained that the giant horses would be attended to as soon as Hagrid had dealt with another issue with some of his other charges. While Madame Maxine seemed doubtful that Hagrid could handle them, she acquiesced with a bow and allowed herself and her students to be led inside the Castle. As the Beauxbatons' students passed, Harry felt his senses tingle at the very edge of his consciousness. It wasn't anything he could put a finger on, but he located Ginny in the crowd, unobtrusively placed his hand on his knife and did a quick check to make sure he still had his wand. Both tools in order, Harry's eyes never left the group of teens and their large Headmistress until they were so far behind him, his neck refused to twist any further.

"Harry, put your eyes back in their sockets. They were fit, to be sure, but I doubt you'd have a chance at them," Seamus joked "I mean what would a seventh year witch want with a fourth year runt like us? He'd have to be bloody amazing," Seamus continued to ramble. Harry felt his unease subside a little. Contrary to the Irish boy's belief, Harry wasn't observing the mollies' shapely posteriors. Something about the fittest of the lot bothered him. She moved with an unnatural grace and the obvious stares of attention tickled the edges of his memory, but he couldn't quite recall what about her seemed familiar.

"Sweet Merlin!" Dean Thomas exclaimed a moment later, as a ship came bubbling to the surface of the Lake. The skeletal mast blended eerily with the leafless forest, as though it were merely another tree in the wood. Harry's sharp eyes picked out the forms of people disembarking from the ship, all clad in cloaks of matted brown fur. The robes' bulk made the individual students nearly indistinguishable from one another, but an older man stood out from the rest. His robes, made of a sleek silvery fur, matched flawlessly with his grey hair and goatee. The Durmstrang Headmaster, Karkaroff, and Dumbledore exchanged pleasantries, but the real shocker came when Karkaroff beckoned a name that Harry knew. "Viktor, come along." Turning back to Dumbledore, "You don't mind, do you Headmaster? Viktor has a bit of a head cold." The explosion of mutters didn't surprise Harry one bit. He knew the boy was famous, but he didn't understand the obsession several sixth year witches had about getting his autograph.

"Honestly, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione huffed. Harry was inclined to agree, and while Quidditch was certainly entertaining, both to play and watch, Harry reflected that he'd never received such an outpouring of obvious lust and he won his games. Even with his highly inferior human nose, Harry could have sworn his sudden light-headedness came from the massive quantities of pheromone emissions from many of the girls around him. Logic then dictated that it wasn't in fact Quidditch that made these witches want to mate him in a primal way, since neither Harry nor even Oliver Wood had generated such an intense reaction. Harry resolved to study this Krum more and figure out his secrets.

"Oh my, Ron's gone all rigid. I'm surprised he didn't faint," Neville snickered. Indeed, Ron had gone stiff as a board as Krum passed within a few inches of him and the small squeak that came from the same vicinity could have come from either Ron or his Hufflepuff charge.

As the fellow Durmstrang students followed behind their better known classmate, one of them happened to bump into the lanky redhead, knocking him from his trance. "Oh, erm… excuse me," Ron muttered, turning a shade of red that closely resembled a radish.

"Oh, zat ist kein problem. It vas I hoo should haf been vatching for you." The speaker's voice was at odds with her thick and furry dressed appearance. Though Harry knew that likely most of the girth came from the layers of robes and fur she wore, the exceedingly feminine voice now coming from behind the shawl wrapped around her face leant credence to both Harry's ideas on her gender, and to Ron's continuing reaction.

She giggled once more and in the process accidentally dislodged a handkerchief from within the sleeve of her robe which fell gracefully towards the frozen ground. She seemed not to notice, but luckily, Ron was there to assist and managed to catch it just before it hit the dirt. Mutely, he held it up as though for her inspection and approval.

"Oh, danke, danke! I can't beleef you caught zat. You are so fast and good wis your hands." She giggled again and then held out a gloved hand, which somehow managed to be dainty despite the size of the outergarment. "I am Helene Himmelreich."

"Ron," Ron replied, a little slowly. Helene quirked one eyebrow, but before she could comment one of her friends who had moved on past her called out.

"Helene, komm endlich! Die Anderen sind schon im Schloss, und ich glaube nicht dein neuer Mann einen Knopf mit dir machen will!"

"Gretel!" Helene exclaimed, clearly annoyed with her friend and turning a slight shade of pink, but she turned quickly back to Ron and gave him, what Harry was fairly sure was, a come hither stare. "Very vell, Ron. Zere vill be time genug to find out ze rest of your name." She winked and sauntered off with the other witch, leaving Ron still beet red and no less board-like than when Krum brushed against him. Only the tugging of the little Hufflepuff girl next to him propelled the shell-shocked Weasley forward.

"What just happened?" Ron finally asked.

"I believe that was flirting," Ginny supplied, having taken over Ron duty for the little Hufflepuff.

"No effing way," Ron breathed. "I mean she's a seventh year, from another school. What on earth could she want with me?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Ron," Hermione advised. "I'm quite sure she's a cow."

"How would you know?" Ron asked. "Is it that unbelievable that a bird might fancy me?"

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself. She only just talked to you. Likely on a dare or some silly nonsense," Hermione pushed.

Ginny began to step away from her brother, the impending fight seemed to have returned to him the full use of his extremities.

"Why would she do that? I mean there are plenty of other blokes hanging about that she could have tried to put the moves on. We have the Boy Who Lived, for Merlin's sake."

"Ron, she certainly didn't put anything on you, except a handkerchief which you managed to catch, and as for why you, you are fairly noticeable. I can't believe you're so dense," Hermione grumped.

During the exchange the bickering duo's legs had decided that independent of their masters' orders, they would very much like to sit down and as such had carried both Ron and Hermione to the Gryffindor table, where they managed to continue the argument in a slightly more comfortable position.

"So now it's because of my leg?"

"What? Where did you get that idea?"

"I'm noticeable? What else am I supposed to think, Hermione?" Ron demanded

"You were up front with a group of first-years. You're rather tall, with flaming red hair and have quite broad shoulders to boot. How can someone not notice you?"

"Bloody hell," Ginny breathed. "Would those two just snog and get it over with?"

"Exactly my point, Hermione! With all that why wouldn't she be trying for me?"

"Because she's a seventh year from Durmstrang. A girl like that likely has boys fawning all over her. Why would she need to come here to find someone to go out with?"

"I thought you said she was a cow?" Harry piped up. Both Ron and Hermione focused their fiercest death glares on the Kneazle-who-might-not-live-much-longer, and Harry subsided into silence.

"Anyone know what her friend said?" Neville finally asked.

"Something about making a button," Parvati piped up, temporarily diverting the attention of everyone from the argument.

"Making a button? What on earth does that mean?" Ginny asked.

"And how do you know what she said?" Dean finished.

"Mum's family lives in Lichtenstein, and I spoke a little when I was younger. I don't remember much, but she said that everyone was going in the castle and something about making a button. Or, perhaps not making a button. There was a 'not' on the end and I think that makes the sentence a negative. I don't know, German is always such a jumbled language. You can shake it up and arrange it anyway you want. Part of why I didn't keep on speaking it. Padma kept up with it a bit longer than I did. Maybe she knows."

"Why on earth would she be speaking German? I thought Durmstrang was in Bulgaria?" Ron asked.

"Bulgaria?" Hermione snorted. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Krum's Bulgarian, remember?"

"No one knows exactly where the other two schools are located, Ron. If you read anything more than Quidditch mags, you'd know that."

"Who said I read Quidditch mags?" Ron demanded.

"It's obvious; you brought it right back to Krum. Couldn't ignore the famous Quidditch hero for one moment, could you?"

"Not that it matters," Ginny spoke loudly, bringing the attention back on her. "It seems that the Durmstrang students are settling in with Slytherin. So, you won't have to worry about Krum or the cow, Hermione."

As one look confirmed, the Durmstrang delegation had indeed settled with the Slytherins and Beauxbatons delegation with the Ravenclaws. The latter group sat shivering slightly and many of them were pulling scarves and shawls more tightly to try and save a little warmth. "Honestly, it isn't that cold," Ginny snorted.

The Durmstrang students on the other hand were shedding their outer layers of furs so that once again they resembled something more akin to humans as opposed to pygmy yeti. As one Durmstrang girl in particular removed her last protective layer, Seamus let out a long appreciative whistle. "That's one fit bird," he remarked.

Lavender sniffed. "You know, you might have better luck with girls if you didn't keep referring to them as 'birds'."

"Right," Seamus waved her off distractedly. "And bloody hell, those froggy birds aren't anything to sneeze at, either."

"Wait, isn't that the cow who chatted you up, Ron?" Fay Dunbar, another girl in their year, asked.

"Which?"

"The one with the 'come shag me' expression on her face."

"Still don't know which one you're talking about," Ron confessed, clearly confused and staring at each Durmstrang face intently.

"Boys are bloody thick!" Fay exclaimed. "The one Seamus was eyeing not a moment ago."

"No… Wait…" Ron was a little confused as he stared slightly longer than was strictly polite, trying to put a face to the alluring voice and body of voluminous robes.

"It bloody well might be," Neville concurred.

"She's still a cow," Hermione grumbled.

"I don't know about that," Seamus argued. "I mean she does have some fantastic udders, but…" Any further comments on the form of the girl in question died on the boy's lips when faced the infuriated faces of any girl close enough to hear him.

"I don't think she's a cow, I mean…" Ron was cut off.

"There you go defending her! What sort of girl just comes up and throws herself at a boy she's never even met before? Well that's fine, if you want to go shag the first tart that bats her eyes at you, go on ahead, but you're in for a mighty big disappointment when she decides to dump you for your Quidditch idol."

"Now just you wait!"

Harry and Ginny locked eyes and rolled them simultaneously. "And they're off!" Neville whispered quietly.

Any further argument was stalled as Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff, along with Dumbledore finally entered. The Beauxbatons students leapt to their feet and stayed standing until their Headmistress was herself seated.

Dumbledore welcomed them in his usual manner and invited everyone to eat. A variety of new foods appeared, including one that Harry couldn't hope to pronounce but was distinctly French. Neither he nor Ron touched it.

Throughout dinner Ron and Hermione continued to bicker. Whether about the quality of foreign foods, the suitability of either Barty Crouch or Ludo Bagman being present (having arrived a few minutes after the start of the feast), or whether or not the deep blood red robes of Durmstrang signified an inherent sinister quality about the school. They were so in depth with their conversation that neither noticed a visitor to their table until Harry's growling became quite audible.

Ron, recognising the warning quality in the growl and following the path of Harry's eyes, pulled his wand as he nearly spun off the bench, barely holding onto his balance and staring up into the face of a gorgeous blonde girl, the point of his wand mere inches from her throat.

"Can I help you?" Harry snarled, the hostility evident in his voice.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at him. "I was perhaps wondering if you were wanting ze bouillabaisse, but I can see that perhaps you are in need of a little culture," she snapped and then focused on Ron. "I would perhaps appreciate if you would put away your wand monsieur." Ron sheepishly lowered it as the woman stalked away.

"Bloody hell, Harry, don't scare me like that. I thought Malfoy had come over here. What was wrong with her, anyway? Sounded like she just wanted some of that fish stuff and it's not like we were going to eat it."

"There's something wrong about her, Ron, and until I find out what it is, I'm not letting her near anyone I care about."

"I don't know, she seemed alright," Seamus offered.

"Anything with a pair of tits is alright with you," Dean pointed out.

_AN: Update and away! Here's 7! Were there girls in the Durmstrang delegation? I think so, even if they aren't specifically noted. Why was Ron noticed by a voluptuous German girl here and not Canon? That will be explained, beyond what has already been laid out. What did Gretel actually say to her friend? If my German is right and it is a bit rusty (translated): "Helene, come here. The others have gone in the castle and I don't believe your new man will want to make a button with you." Making a button: German slang for shagging. Thanks as always to my fantastic Beta, Arnel and brit picker, Rosina Ferguson. Together we are TEAM UPDATE! Also, a special shout out to any of my readers of whom German is your primary language. Thanks for letting me borrow and butcher it. _


	8. Fights and Parties

"Merow!" Mopar protested as Harry pinned him flat to the ground.

'Give up!' Harry demanded.

'Never! Till' death, I say!'

Harry released the scruff in his mouth, rolled flat on his side and grabbing the other tom's head, rabbit kicked it with vigour.

'Now you boys be careful! I don't want that nice, giant man to have to patch any of you up again,' Mother chided as she and several of the newest kittens strolled from the den.

'Yes, Mum,' Harry and Mopar chorused, both getting up and beginning their after playtime bath.

'Death from above!' came the new call, and Mopar looked up just in time to be hit full on by a Rex-train that wasn't stopping. Harry smiled. He hadn't really found the time in two months to just come out and be a Kneazle. The Hogwarts' pride missed him, as Mother repeatedly told him, and many of the younger Kneazles were equally as disappointed when he didn't show up more than once every several weeks.

Tonight, though, Harry knew he had to be out here. He couldn't have slept if he tried. First of all, Ron was ranting about Hermione and Seamus was still going on about the Durmstrang girl who seemed to have a mating fixation on Harry's friend. He wasn't in the mood for any of it, and to top it all off Ginny had looked positively gorgeous.

Harry couldn't decide where he got off thinking that his human was beautiful in anything more than a classic appreciation of the word. The same way one might find a sunrise, or a freshly killed vole particularly beautiful, but the truth was that Harry finally admitted to himself that he very well might fancy his human-lion as something more than just the giver of sensual petting and a warm place to sleep. This particular reason was why he found himself here without the distracting presence of the red-furred lioness, having given her the slip and snuck out the dormitory window.

'Human got your tongue?' Mum asked, startling Harry from his private revelation.

'Nothing much, I suppose. Just thinking,' Harry replied.

'Dangerous past time,' Mum reminded him as she sat down to watch all of her kittens, young and older, romp in the relative safety of the clearing.

'I know. I just am trying to figure some things out,' Harry sighed.

'If it's hunting advice, I'd ask my mate. He was always a better hunter than I, loathed though I am to admit it.'

Harry shook his head in a very human sort of way. 'No, it's actually to do with mating.' Harry was quite glad that his fur was concealing and that Kneazles didn't suffer from blushing in the same way their human counterparts did.

Mum smiled knowingly. 'You want to impress a molly.' It wasn't a question.

'Yes.'

'I'm sure your real father must have gone over this with you before. If I may ask, which one? It isn't one of my kittens, is it?'

Harry bathed his right paw in an attempt at stalling until a paw batted his ear and forced him to answer the question.

'Sort of,' Harry mumbled.

'Either it is or it isn't. With the exception of you and that lovely lioness you are friends with, I don't have any sort of children… ohhh…' Understanding dawned across the old molly's face. 'You want to mate a lioness. That's a dangerous proposition, son.'

'Well, she's also sort of a human,' Harry reasoned.

'So are you, and I suppose that's why it might work, but you're going to have to do something big to get her attention.'

'Something big?'

'Very big,' Mum confirmed. 'She's a gorgeous lion, and I'd be willing to bet the human toms think she's quite fit when she's on two legs.'

'Well, I dunno. I mean, I know I think she's pretty, but she's kind of young, I think, in human terms.'

'Bah,' Mum scoffed. 'That's the sort of thing toms tell themselves to avoid going after the molly they want. To avoid having to do that big thing that will win his molly's favour. She's got a sleek coat, strong teeth and from what I've seen, a fine nose. Her hips are certainly wide enough to have kittens and I don't see her as the sort of mother to abandon them or go lifting her tail for another tom. What else could you ask for?'

'Well, what sort of thing would you suggest?' Harry shifted uncomfortably. This was the sort of thing that he'd been afraid of. What could he possibly do to top what he'd already done? He'd rescued her brothers, killed a professor and a giant snake, saved her life, and she didn't act any differently towards him than she did the summer after she found out he was a Kneazle.

'That sort of thing has to come from the heart, my boy. Ask Isis, she'll guide you.'

'Sometimes I don't think she pays much attention,' Harry muttered. This earned him a hard swat on the side of his head.

'Quiet! I won't hear that sort of talk in my den. Isis has done more for you than you realise, so don't be ungrateful now. There has to be something that could capture the heart and mind of even a lion. Something grand, something spectacular, something that only you can do. Isn't there anything you can think of?'

Harry sat in silence for a moment when it dawned on him. Why hadn't he thought of it before? It seemed so simple now. Giving his Hogwarts' mum an appreciative nuzzle, Harry took off for the castle.

'I've got it now, thanks!'

Mum merely looked on fondly before calling her kittens back to the den. _They grow up so quickly_, she thought to herself.

Harry managed to find a small Kneazle sized door hidden behind the overgrowth next to the main doors that had, for some strange reason, been left open. 'Odd,' he thought to himself, 'But blind toms can't be picky.' Hastening his way through the courtyard, he transformed in the shadows and moved quietly until he found himself standing inches outside Dumbledore's age line, staring longingly at the Goblet of Fire.

"Why hello there, Harry," the twin voices of Fred and George Weasley greeted him softly. Harry spun slowly and waved. "Something wrong there, mate?" Fred asked.

"I need to enter, but I don't know if I can," Harry replied glumly.

George laughed a little. "Harry, why on earth would you want to enter? Wouldn't you like a quiet year for once? I don't think you've had one yet."

"I thought I would have, but there's this girl…"

"And you want to impress her by winning the Tri-Wizard Cup, is that it?" Fred finished knowingly. "That's not a bad idea, but you're going to have to beat us out for it."

"Why are you entering? I didn't think you wanted any more notoriety," Harry noted.

Both twins nodded in agreement, but Fred clarified. "That's true, after two years ago, we swore our pranking and trouble making ways would change, but we're not in it for the fame. We just need the money."

Harry's forehead scrunched in confusion. "For what?"

"Our new business!" George exclaimed.

"I thought you weren't going to pursue Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"We're not," George elaborated. "But we've been talking a fair bit to the goblins about providing specialized products to their curse-breaking teams."

"And security teams, and a few others," Fred continued proudly. "After Bill talked a bit to them about how our products helped reduce field time and expenses on his job, they want to formally test some of our products, but we need a fair bit of gold to make the orders they've requested and this is the only way I think we can do it."

"What if neither of you get chosen?" Harry pointed out. "You're not even of age."

George held up a small bottle. "We thought Dumbledore might try something like this, which is why we have a specially brewed aging potion handy. A drop or two each, we only need to be a few months older, and if we don't get chosen then we'll work something else out."

"I'll get you the money," Harry declared. "One way or the other."

Fred and George smirked. "That's generous, mate, but we're not ones for charity. Now, if you'll excuse us." Both boys began striding confidently towards the age line. They had broken the barrier and continued toward the cup, sporting identical smirks, when all of a sudden both twins were ejected from the circle with a loud 'pop', now sporting identical long white beards.

"Ohhh… should have known that might not have worked," Fred groaned.

"Bloody hell. Dumbledore isn't the most powerful wizard of the age for nothing," George agreed.

"I'm sorry it didn't work," Harry offered. "But why try to do it in the middle of the night?"

"Didn't want people to think we were up to our old games. It's one thing to help a pretty Hufflepuff out with her homework and 'accidentally' bewitch several of her blank parchment sheets to write inspired love letters with your brother's name at the bottom. Quite another to try and circumvent Dumbledore's rules and enter a tournament with a death toll illegally."

Harry nodded and helped both older boys up shrugged. "Not much you can do, really."

"No, I suppose not," Fred agreed. "Come on, bro, we've got to figure something else out."

"I'm not really in the mood for that tonight," George admitted.

"Neither am I, but we can get pissed and pretend we're working on something," Fred consoled. Shooting Harry a look, he continued, "If you're going to have a go at it, make sure you do it quickly. I saw Mad-Eye prowling around. Luckily he doesn't know how old we are, so we didn't get in trouble when he caught us coming down here. You on the other hand aren't so lucky. Now," Fred said, addressing his bearded brother, "where do you think we can find a fifth of Ogden's at this hour?"

Harry tuned their banter out and once again faced the untouchable cup. He needed to enter. He had to enter. How else could he prove that he, an insignificant Kneazle, was worthy to court a lioness of her calibre? Her paws were nearly as big as his head. Trust in Isis, Mum had said, and he had to admit it wasn't bad advice. Hadn't she given him the ability to use doorknobs when he needed to? Hadn't she helped him make the change from human to Kneazle and back? If he was perfectly honest with himself, he'd done enough stupid things to have cost him his life four or five times over, yet here he was. Wasn't that proof enough that she had to be watching him?

Harry sank to one knee slowly and in his best most honest voice asked the great protector of all felines for just a little help. Minutes passed and he didn't feel any different. No older, and when he examined the age line it was still very much intact. Blowing out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, Harry lowered his eyes and turned to go back to the tower. Why had he thought that Isis would be concerned with one Kneazle's prayer? She must get thousands each night. Surely she couldn't answer them all. As he strode away, something didn't feel right. Like having fleas for the first time, it was an itch that he just couldn't scratch.

He stopped, turned and stared once more at the ancient artefact. Then, without thinking he dropped to four legs and took a running leap at the cup. A fancy display of acrobatics was all that stopped him from ploughing headfirst into the fiery beverage container. Harry stared all around him with disbelief. He was inside! He'd made it. Once again utilizing his ability to grow opposable thumbs, Harry turned back into a human, grabbed a slip of parchment, and a quill from the small table next to the pedestal. After writing his name down, along with a sprawling 'Hogwarts', he placed the paper in the fire with a little curiosity. Oddly enough, the paper didn't burn, but instead seemed to almost dissolve into the flames.

Smiling broadly, Harry transformed once more and crossed back across the age line with no trouble. He pranced the whole way to the tower. Once firmly ensconced in his bed, Harry debated on the best course of action now that he was in, but he resisted the urge to wake Ron or Neville to tell them what he'd done. He just had the feeling that they wouldn't appreciate him waking them up to tell them something that, at this point, seemed insignificant, and why raise their hopes if Harry wasn't picked for a champion? If that was the case, and it was the most likely outcome, they would just be irritated for being woken. If he did make it, then he could tell them then, be suitably applauded and bask in Ginny's likely admiration. Yes, he decided, feeling a little sleepier with each passing moment, he could tell them when he'd been chosen.

oOo

The next day was still ripe with anticipation. It seemed like everyone was wondering who would be chosen as the Champions.

"The Durmstrang lot has all put theirs in, but I haven't seen anyone else yet. I heard Warrington got up early to put his name in, and I know Diggory has been making noise about it, too." Neville informed the arriving group.

"I'd have done it last night," Ron muttered as they made their way to breakfast.

"Why?" Neville asked.

"So there aren't so many bloody people staring at you, that's why. It would be kind of embarrassing if you dropped your name in and it just spit you right back out again, wouldn't you think?"

"Ron, I haven't read a single instance of that happening. As long as you're of age I don't think you'd have a problem," Hermione informed him.

"Harry, why'd you come in so late last night?" Ginny interrupted suddenly as they all sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"I was out late with the pride, that's all. How'd you know?"

Ginny glared as he didn't meet her eyes. "I was up by the fire waiting for you. You didn't even stop to say hi when you came in. Why didn't you invite me?"

"I just needed some time to think, that's all. I had a few things on my mind."

"And you didn't think I could help you? Merlin, Harry, are we friends or not?"

"Leave him be, Ginny," Ron scolded. "It isn't going to kill you to be away from him for a few hours. If the bloke said he didn't want company last night, perhaps he just needed to be alone for a bit to kill a mouse, or do whatever it is a Kneazle does."

"Ron, stay out of it," Ginny warned.

"Not if you're going to ruin breakfast for us."

"Is that all you think about, food?" Ginny challenged.

"No, I actually think about my friends, Ginny. You should try it sometime."

In a flash Ron was staring down the point of Ginny's wand. "You wouldn't," he challenged.

Ginny laughed darkly. "What, in our thirteen years together, would ever make you think that, brother?"

"Ginny, this isn't some stupid game, anymore. This is real life and family sticks together. Now stop being stupid and eat breakfast."

"That's right, Ron, we stick together. Except when you don't feel like it, or when you're too afraid to face down bloody big spiders to help your friends out. I don't think I'll be taking advice on being a good friend from you. Now shove off, and mind your own business."

"You made it my business, Ginny, and I'm not afraid of you."

"Bat bogey hex, anyone?" Ginny replied airily, as she took her wand from in front of Ron's face and began polishing it.

"You know," Ron growled. "The thing about being used by a Death Eater for Cruciatus practice is that no other curse compares, really. I thought we'd grown beyond hexing each other when our backs were turned. Thought we'd agreed that we needed to stick together, Ginny."

Ginny's face had suddenly lost most of its colour as she locked eyes with her older brother. "Ron, I wasn't thinking…"

"No, you weren't," Ron bit off. "I guess I wasn't either when I jumped in front of Lestrange's wand. Keep your breakfast. I'll find some of my own." Ron stood rapidly and swung his leg over the bench. When he tried to swing the other over, his brace caught and caused him to stumble. A horrid bark of laughter rang through the Great Hall. No one in Gryffindor needed to look to know it belonged to Malfoy. Ron gritted his teeth and turned to leave. This, unfortunately, meant he had to walk within a few yards of the Slytherin table.

"Trouble in paradise, weasel?" Malfoy taunted. Ron whirled, his wand drawn and his body primed for a fight. "Ah, ah, ahh… Wouldn't want to cause a scene in front of the professors now would we?" Malfoy nodded his head towards the staff table, though at the time only Professor Trelawney, Hagrid and Filch were in residence.

"No, you're right," Ron agreed, through clenched teeth. "Wouldn't want to cause a scene. Your daddy might hear about his son being hexed within an inch of his life by the poor son of a blood-traitor and I can't imagine he'd let you come back to school after that. Then who would my mates use for punching practice?" Ron smirked and turned to leave.

A wise man might have spotted that Ron's wand was still drawn, or that his whole body screamed 'trespassers will be hexed.' Draco Malfoy, though, was never terribly wise, and so, he decided that such an insult could not go unanswered. "What's the matter, Granger not letting you feel her up anymore? Have to resort to chasing sheep? Not that a Mudblood is much different, really."

'Blam!' Under normal circumstances the spell Ron had chosen would have banished Malfoy's full breakfast platter into his face. Fuelled by Ron's incoherent rage, however, Draco's plate slammed into his head and with additional force carried him off the bench and nearly into the wall behind him. Ron's quick reflexes were all that saved him from being struck with a retaliatory curse by Goyle, as the red-head ducked and rolled, managing to incapacitate both members of Malfoy's traditional back-up squad.

"Bloody hell!" Neville exclaimed, who realised what was going to happen just before it did. None of them could hear what precisely was being said, but based on Ron's expression everyone had a fair guess. As soon as Ron whirled, Neville had leapt from his seat and was sprinting across the Great Hall, just in time to get hit by a badly aimed Stunner from a Slytherin sixth year.

After that it was pure chaos. Fred and George took out several of the upper year Slytherins from where they sat and Dean agreed to provide cover as Harry and Ginny ran towards her brother like the Dog Star Sirius himself was on their heels. Seeing more Gryffindors apparently spoiling for a fight, the Slytherin students had no choice but to enter the fray, thus necessitating the entirety of the Gryffindor table to join in as well.

Though the entire scuffle seemed to have quite the long lead up, it took mere seconds for the whole thing to explode from an isolated hexing into a full house on house brawl. One of the Beauxbatons' students leaned over and asked the Hufflepuff she happened to be sitting next to, "Is zis normal?"

Hannah Abbot shrugged, "No, not really, but from what it looked like, Harry was involved and nothing is ever normal with him. Would you please pass the pepper?" Ducking a wayward spell, Hannah grabbed the pepper from in front of her French guest as it seemed that she wasn't going to be passing anything for the time being. _Really_, Hannah thought, _hadn't these French girls seen half a school engaged in a brawl over breakfast? _Ignoring the fact that she hadn't either, it didn't seem to affect any of the Hufflepuff's appetites.

"Ernie!" Hannah called out. "Two Sickles on Gryffindor."

Ernie McMillan motioned that he'd heard her, and then made a few hand gestures to a Ravenclaw. He nodded once and turned back. "You're covered!" He called. Hannah nodded, satisfied. She needed the extra pocket money for the Hogsmeade trip next week.

As it turned out, Hannah won her two Sickles, with twelve Slytherin students requiring the attention of Madam Pomfrey and only seven Gryffindors. One Ravenclaw first year had been hit with a wayward Jelly-Legs Jinx, but everyone decided to let that one go after he declared it was 'awfully exciting'.

The high hospital count, one of the Ravenclaws theorized, was due to the brawl being far more prolonged than anyone had anticipated, because minutes before breakfast had started, some anonymous prankster had set off several fireworks near the Hospital Wing which necessitated many of the normal staff to be engaged in attempting to get rid of them. Thus, when McGonagall, Flitwick, Moody, Sprout and Professor Vector all arrived at breakfast, they found the place to be in a total uproar.

It took the combined effort of all the teachers to reign in the chaos. Madame Maxime declared that she would speak to Dumbledore about school discipline. If the professors were going to just allow their students to run amok, the Beauxbatons delegation would make alternate dining arrangements. Some of her students had delicate constitutions.

So, it was with hanging heads that the entirety of Gryffindor house was seated about the common room listening to the most blistering speech they'd ever heard their Head of House give. Well, most of them were listening. Ginny on the other hand was only half paying attention, with the other half being divided between worry for her now hospitalized brother, and the running discussion of Dean and Seamus seated behind her.

"… The most shameful display of hospitality that I have ever been unfortunate enough to witness in my tenure here as a both student and professor…" McGonagall droned on. She'd already threatened them with removing Gryffindor from the running for the House Cup entirely. Ginny wondered idly if Snape was giving his students the same invective. She'd bet Harry's shirt, the one that she'd grabbed by accident one day at Aunt Arabella's house and had just forgotten to return, that the Slytherins weren't getting anything close to the tongue lashing they were.

"Bloody hell, would you two prats shut up?" Ginny hissed at Dean and Seamus.

"Just because you're worried for your brother, doesn't mean you can take it out on us," Dean whispered back.

"Why would she be worried for her brother? He's one lucky bloke!" Seamus declared softly.

"Because he's in hospital, you prat!" Dean reminded him.

"Yeah, but that Durmstrang bird was the one to carry him there. She's got to be bloody strong. I wonder if she plays Quidditch."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ginny asked, still irritated as neither boy had done as she'd asked.

"Look, I know you're a girl, Ginny, but even you had to have noticed. He had his hands all over her jumblies!"

Dean moaned. "He was unconscious and his hand slipped. Why is everything with you about tits?"

Seamus did not deign to answer his friend's question as he continued to expound on Ron's good fortune. "Oh, sure, you say he was asleep, but your hands don't land that way by accident. I wonder if she let him give them a good squeeze. What do you think they felt like? Mangoes, maybe? No, not hard like mangoes. They're the size of melons, but they look a bit softer than that. Maybe pillows?"

Dean and Ginny shared a look of utter disbelief as the Irish boy continued his monologue. "I know!" Seamus finally exclaimed. "Balloons. You know great big balloons that have gone a bit soft three days after a party. I bet that's exactly what they felt like."

"Seamus!" Dean finally huffed, a good bit louder than he meant to. "Would you stop talking about tits?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

The silence following the final question seemed to echo. "Is there something you'd like to tell us Mr. Thomas?" McGonagall asked.

"Erm… no, ma'am."

"Very well, two weeks detention."

oOo

"Come on, Ginny," Harry pleaded. "They're going to pick the champions any moment now. If we move quickly we can still get down there."

Ginny stubbornly remained flat on her stomach in front of the fire. "I'm not hungry. If you want to go sit with the prat and miss perfect, then be my guest. I just don't have much of an appetite for another lecture."

Harry huffed impatiently. "Fine, but just because you gave your brother a rotten time doesn't mean you need to shut yourself away."

"I gave him a rotten time?" Ginny screeched. "I can't believe you'd side with him after he started a inter-house brawl over breakfast!"

"Doesn't mean you didn't give him a rotten time. Ginny, you promised each other that you'd look out for family after this summer. No more pranks and hexes. I thought it was silly at the time, but who am I to judge? The point is you forgot that, and he didn't so you might as well apologise and just move past it. Family fights all the time."

"You're sounding like Hermione now."

"She does get it right from time to time," Harry allowed. "Look, I even begged off going to see Hagrid with them to keep you company, but this is getting ridiculous. If you aren't coming down then I'll see you afterwards."

Ginny shook her head again, slowly. "I'm really not hungry, Paws. I'll see you when you get back here. Hopefully it's someone from Gryffindor."

Harry grinned. "I hope so too, Sparkplug."

"And, Harry?"

"Yeah, Sparkplug?"

"I'll talk to Ron when you all get back. I'm just not feeling well right now." Harry nodded in appreciation and hurried to dinner.

True to his prediction, Harry barely made it in time, wedging himself in the small space saved between Ron and Hermione.

"Cutting a bit close, aren't you?" Ron asked. Harry only shrugged. "Is my sister still not coming down?"

"She's having difficulty admitting she was wrong," Harry confessed. "I'm surprised they let you out in time to see this."

"Same old Ginny. Stubborn as always. S'alright, I wouldn't trust her to watch my back if she weren't."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "That was remarkably mature."

Ron shrugged. "I have to grow up eventually. What better time than when I'm being chased by 'older women'." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, same old Ron," Hermione scoffed. "Boys!"

Ron focused on Harry once more and continued, "And they let everyone out. No one was really hurt, per se, most of us just had to be revived. Madam Pomfrey made sure to let the Gryffindors out before the Slytherins though. No fights that way."

"I'm really surprised, though. Seems like if you get a paper cut, that old bat makes you stay the night," Harry huffed.

"Well… Helene might have had something to do with it," Ron admitted.

"I know she carried you up there, but could she have done?" Harry questioned.

"She's really persuasive, you know? I mean, she pointed out that no one actually needed to stay and that if someone collapsed we'd be in a big group anyway. Then she offered to walk us all back to the tower, just to make sure, which put Malfoy in a bit of a state…"

"Shhh! They're starting," Hermione hissed, clearly annoyed with the turn the conversation had taken. Sure enough, the flames in the goblet had turned bright red and sparks began to waft upwards in a grand show of pyrotechnics. Finally, a tongue of flame shot out and delivered a small charred piece of parchment into Dumbledore's waiting hand.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum," Dumbledore announced in a strong, authoritative voice. The Hall erupted in cheers and applause. Ron nodded thoughtfully and Harry saw Dean pass Lavender six Knuts.

"No surprise, really," Seamus informed the group once things had quieted down a bit. Krum had headed into a door next to the staff table, which seemed to be the cue for the Goblet to announce the next champion. Another tongue of flame delivered a second parchment slip into Dumbledore's hand.

"The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour," Dumbledore announced.

The girl swept up and into the same small door as Viktor and set Harry's teeth on edge. She was the one who was setting all of Harry's danger alerts off, he was sure of it. There was something unnatural about that kind of perfection, he decided. Like the poison dart frogs of the Amazon, or the Red Pestle Fliedermaus, a flower discovered in the Swiss Alps that lures wizards in to pick it and then devours them whole using a mobile root structure. The silver of her hair and the very alluring way in which she walked screamed 'warning, do not touch.' Unfortunately, based on the looks she was receiving from a good number of the combined male population, not everyone realised it.

A few seconds after Fleur shut the door behind her, another piece of parchment exited from the fiery chalice. "The champion for Hogwarts will be," Dumbledore called out. The room held its collective breath as the wizened headmaster paused for dramatic effect. "The champion for Hogwarts will be…"

"Harry Potter," the wizened headmaster's voice faltered just a little, but no one seemed to notice.

"YES!" Harry exploded, and in a shake of a lamb's tail was up on his seat performing an impromptu dance of his own creation. He was still dancing all the way towards the antechamber next to the staff table.

Straightening up just a little, he put on his best serious face and headed in. Both Fleur and Viktor looked up to see him walk in and had slightly confused looks on their faces. "Is somezing wrong? Did ze Goblet make a mistake?" Fleur asked in her highly accented English

"No, why would you think that?" Harry asked.

"You are not of ze age," she replied.

"Didn't stop me," Harry winked. Any further boasting or gloating was cut short as all three school heads and several more Hogwarts' professors swept in to the small room, leaving it feeling somewhat cramped.

"Harry, did you ask another student to put your name in the Goblet?" Dumbledore inquired. His voice was grave and there lacked the customary twinkle behind his eyes.

"Of course not, I did it myself," Harry announced proudly.

"I sought you said zat zere would be an age line. Perhaps you did not make it correctly?" Madame Maxime pushed, her voice not fully able to keep out the gloating tone.

"Oh no, he did it right. Fred and George got shot right back out, and they took an aging potion right before they tried. I'm just lucky." The grin which he was trying so hard to suppress blossomed across his face once more and the third champion had to concentrate very hard on each foot so that they didn't break into dance independently.

"Albus, he can't compete. This tournament is designed for students very near to the end of their magical education. He has to withdraw and we need to pick a new one," McGonagall protested.

"You can't do that! The boy entered and he was deemed most worthy. It isn't our fault that a beginning fourth year bested your entire NEWT class," Karkaroff protested. "If we can't trust the impartiality of the Goblet of Fire, then why are we here at all? We can't just select which student we want to represent us."

"'Ear, 'Ear, I agree completely wiz Monsieur Karkaroff. We must abide by ze Goblet's decizion," Madame Maxime concurred.

"Albus, he's just a boy. How is he supposed to compete? We have to withdraw him," McGonagall protested again.

"He should have thought of that before he decided to play the glory seeker," Snape commented waspishly from the rear of the room.

"Minerva, I'm afraid that simply isn't possible to withdraw him. Once the Goblet has chosen it's a magically binding contract."

"Convenient isn't it?" Moody growled from the back?

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Alastor," Dumbledore politely acknowledged. Harry was sure the

Headmaster likely knew exactly what the grizzled ex-Auror was on about, but was inquiring for the rest of them.

"Convenient because once Potter is in, he can't back out and what better cover to arrange for the boy to have an 'accident'." Moody had begun pacing the small room examining each of its occupants as though they were the likely suspects in this strange mystery. "A slip off the broom, a non-verbal jinx at just the right moment. People die in this tournament all the time and dead men tell no tales, eh, Karkaroff?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're implying."

"I'm sure you do," Moody growled. "Somehow Potter got around the age line, if what he says is true, and I'll applaud him on that, but does anyone in this room think that the Goblet would have chosen a fourth year student above all the best and brightest of this year's NEWT class? It would take a powerful bit of wand work to trick a magical item like the Goblet of Fire into picking the champion you wished. Oh, a powerful spell indeed, but it could be done, and I'd wager that nearly every wizard who had both access and the capability to do so is in this room now. Which narrows our list of suspects down nicely, don't you think, Karkaroff?"

"That will be quite enough," Dumbledore intoned. Moody fell mercifully silent. "While you do raise a fair point, Alastor, there isn't anything that can be done about it now. Harry has indicated that he willingly entered the tournament and while we certainly did our best to ensure that no one underage would be able to compete, no plan is wholly foolproof. So, I suggest that we explain what is going to be expected of each of our champions."

Barty Crouch stepped forward and began.

Some minutes later, Harry emerged with the other Champions, a grin splitting his face and his feet nearly leaving the floor entirely as he skipped along the corridor.

"Harry!" a voice called, and the boy in question whirled about to face the unknown.

"Ron," Harry sighed. "Don't do that! You nearly scared me out of a year's growth."

"You're slipping, Harry. I shouldn't be able to sneak up on you. So, did you really put your name in the Goblet?" Ron chuckled.

Harry beamed. "I sure did."

"How? I mean the age line wouldn't be fooled by an invisibility cloak would it?"

"I told you, Ron. We Kneazles age differently."

"If you say so, mate. I hope you've saved up at least two of your lives, though. You're going to need them."

"Whatever for?"

"You didn't tell me, and based on the expressions on Hermione and Neville's faces I would guess you didn't tell them either. Finally, Ginny didn't come down because she was still upset about the whole fight from this morning, so I'd bet good Galleons you didn't tell her either. Now, surprises I can handle. Ginny, not so much. Hermione won't like it either and between the two of them… I think you're going to need a little insurance, that's all."

"I'm sure your sister will be thrilled. All she needs is a little time to adjust to the idea, that's all," Harry assured his friend.

They walked in companionable silence back to the tower with Harry only asking one more question before they gave the password. "You're not mad, are you?"

Ron shrugged. "Nah. I might have been if you'd tried to deny it or done it for a stupid reason like impressing my sister, but I know you better than that. You did it for the challenge."

"How do you know that?"

"You said so. Balderdash," Ron said to the fat lady, who swung open accordingly.

The blast of sound that emanated from the common room nearly left Harry's ears bleeding. There was a wireless playing full force, and several Gryffindor banners had been hastily drawn and charmed to roar at various intervals. Not to mention that it seemed the entire tower had turned out to for the celebration. The twins were doing a rendition of their famous 'we got Potter' song and dance combination, and Harry managed to spot Luna Lovegood, who somehow had managed to sneak in and had become lost within the revellers.

"It's Harry bloody Potter!" Someone yelled, and Harry was immediately set upon by a horde of well wishers. Butterbeers and a few unmarked bottles of something stronger were repeatedly pressed into his hands, despite his repeated refusals.

Any worry he'd held from Ron's warnings began to fade into the warm glow from Butterbeer and camaraderie. Even Angelina had congratulated him. "If it couldn't be me, at least it was a Gryffindor!" she'd shouted.

He finally spotted Hermione, who was the one person apparently not having a good time and finally managed to edge his way over close enough to be heard over the din.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione demanded, at the same time.

"Ron was right behind me. He walked me back. He must be here somewhere."

"Well, I have to have my Arithmancy notes back. He still has them and I don't want them ruined."

Harry gave her a strange look. "You're worrying about that now? I know he won't ruin them, Hermione, he's been up late looking at them."

"Couldn't be. He's had them for ages now and I'm sure that whatever question he needed to ask McGonagall was answered already. He must be studying for something else."

"Have you lent him any other notes, because these were definitely in your writing."

"I don't see how he could use them anyway. He's not taken the class. He'd have to have a tutor and someone to explain it all."

"Maybe he's smarter than you give him credit for," Harry suggested. Hermione turned a little pink at the gentle admonishment.

"It isn't that. I know he's plenty capable when he puts his mind to it, but Arithmancy is really difficult. It's almost like speaking another language. It's just not something you can study casually in your spare time between making up rubbish in Divination and setting a throw pillow on fire whilst practicing for Charms."

"To be fair, he only set it on fire the once and I'm sure he's floating about here somewhere. Now, where's Ginny?"

"She isn't coming down," Hermione informed him.

"Why not? She's not one to miss a party."

"She's rather upset with you, and so am I if truth be told. Well, she's a bit more than upset with you, but I'm certainly irritated enough to express it for both of us at the moment."

"Hermione, you can study later. This is a party! One night missed won't do you in."

"Typical. You don't see it do you? I'm not worried about missing a night of revising, and neither is Ginny. We're worried about you!" Hermione shouted above the ruckus.

"There's nothing to worry about. I'll win it, never you fear," Harry scoffed. He spoke with a little more bravado than he felt, but he was also sure he was right. The others were fighting for the idea of winning. Harry was fighting to impress a molly, and as all toms know, there is no stronger force in the universe than that of a man vying for a woman's attention.

"You prat, I'll be happy if you finish without dying. You don't get it, do you? They stopped doing this because too many students were getting killed. I know you think you're charmed, Harry, but they didn't make this tournament for you. They're going to test students who've had at least two more years' education than you. How can you compete against that?"

"Two more years' education of learning what? I've been hunting since before they were in school. I'm fast, agile and I've killed a Basilisk. I bet even Krum hasn't done that. Now, lighten up. This is a party, we're supposed to be having fun."

"I don't believe you! If that's the sort of attitude you're going to go into the competition with, then let me know what your favourite flowers are, because I'll need to order some."

"Human victory celebration?"

"Your grave, you idiot! You're going to get yourself killed. I know you're good, Harry. Lord knows I've seen it, but you can't stab everything and hope it comes out for the best. You've been lucky the past three years; even you have to admit that. You said you weren't interested in doing this, that you wanted a nice quiet year. Why did you go and enter?"

"Things change," Harry replied, not meeting his friend's eyes. He could see the tears beginning to form and he hated that he might have been the one to put them there. Though, he'd wager at least a little of her sadness was the very real danger she might not get her notes back from Ron.

"Please tell me this isn't for something stupid, like impressing a girl."

"There's nothing stupid about impressing a potential mate, Hermione."

"Merlin, this is, isn't it? First Ron, now you? Has the whole world gone crazy? Fine, get yourself killed. See if I care, but I guarantee that whoever it is won't find you so impressive when you get squished by a giant or roasted alive by a chimera."

"There's going to be a chimera? I hadn't heard that. They just told us it would be a surprise and we'd have to think on our feet. Do you think we'll have to kill it, or can I get its autograph afterwards? Ohh, I hope I get to meet him…"

"Harry!" Hermione screeched. "I have no idea if there will be a chimera, but that's not the point. I've been reading and traditionally the first task always has to do with some sort of very nasty creature. I just hope you live to regret it, that's all."

"I'll be fine, Hermione," Harry assured her. "Could you let Ginny know I'm down here? I'd really like to talk to her."

"I'll let her know, but she already told me to tell you that if you came looking for her to 'sod off'."

"Oh." Suddenly, the party was far less vibrant and perhaps the Butterbeer not so warm. "If I see Ron, do you want me to send him along?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, just tell him I need my notes back or I'm going to root though his room finding them."

"Alright then." Harry stood and slowly began to rejoin the party when Hermione's shout drew his attention once again.

"Harry, be careful!"

For such a bleak event, it certainly lasted well into the night, Harry noted. He wondered if anyone would really notice if he slipped out the window, though the intermediate string of well wishers and congratulatory handshakes stayed him from that course of action.

Somewhere around midnight, the party finally began to wind down when several of the prefects finally managed to put a lid on the whole thing. Lee Jordan accidentally setting fire to two of the banners might have helped it along, but Harry's mood didn't improve even with the addition of senseless destruction.

"Come on, Harry, let's get going. We've got a long day tomorrow," Neville suggested. Harry fixed him with a cold look.

"Tomorrow is Sunday, Neville. I appreciate the concern, but I'm waiting for Ron. He wasn't here all night and I want to know why."

Neville shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I don't think you're going to see Ginny until tomorrow."

"Who said I was waiting for her?"

"Well I don't really think you're waiting for Ron, but that's just me theorizing. See you tomorrow, Harry."

No sooner had Neville ascended the stairs to the dormitory then the portrait hole swung open and a very unsteady Ron sauntered his way into the room, holding his neck.

"Ron, where were you?" Harry demanded. "Hermione was looking for you all night, and I can't believe you missed it."

"Good party then?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, it was alright. What's the matter? You seem a bit out of it."

"Oh, you know, homework takes it out of you."

"The library is closed," Harry pointed out. "And you expect me to believe that you missed what most would consider a smashing party to go study?"

"Well, you know… I, erm…, class work and that…"

"Ron, really, where were you? Were you studying with someone? Are you actually upset with me?"

"Why would I be upset with you?" Ron asked.

"Hermione and Ginny both are. Seem to think I'm going to get myself killed."

"It's your life, mate. I don't want you to die, for sure, but you've always been independent. That saved Fred, George and Ginny. Saved Hermione too, if I really think about it that way. I can't see as why I'd try and stop you now."

"Maybe you could explain that to your sister," Harry muttered.

"I think I'll leave that to you. She's on the stairs right now."

Harry turned his head and sure enough, Ginny stood on the stairs in a set of Ron's old night clothes that had obviously been cast off when he'd finally outgrown them. Her hand was on her hip, her fiery mane of hair was dishevelled from an obvious attempt at sleep and she was wearing the fiercest expression Harry had ever seen. In other words, she was positively gorgeous. Any resolve he had about keeping their relationship strictly owner-pet was thrown completely out the window. It wasn't like he could hope to control the force of nature that was Ginny Weasley, anyway. Unfortunately for the love-struck Kneazle, that force of nature was headed directly at him.

"I think I'll see you in the morning… I hope." Ron muttered and limped off towards the stairs. Harry cast him a glare that the other boy failed to appreciate.

"Traitor," he muttered. Turning to his human, Harry put on his most winning smile as she strode purposefully toward him.

"Knock it off, Harry," Ginny commanded. Her protector winced at the use of his first name. "What on earth were you thinking? Did you even stop to consider what you were doing?"

"Of course I did," Harry defended himself. He had, in fact, put a great deal of thought into exactly how winning the tournament was going to impress this particular molly into seeing him as something other than her furry protector and sidekick.

"Oh, so you just decided to enter a tournament that not only wasn't meant for you, but has every potential to get you killed? How considerate!" Ginny ranted.

"Ginny, it's not going to be like that. I know you and Hermione are convinced…"

"I forgot! The great Harry Potter can do what he pleases. Nothing can stop him, can it? Did you forget last year? How about the year before? Your hare-brained schemes only hurt those close to you. Who's it going to be this time? Hobart? Electrolux? How about Igglebum? No, it can't be them because they're dead!"

"That's not fair!" Harry yelled back. Throwing the death of three of his adopted pride mates in his face was low, even if she was roiling mad. "I didn't want them to die. Sometimes things happen and we can't do anything about it. There's life and death in nature, Ginny. That's something you'd understand if you grew up outside of your protected bubble."

"Bubble? I've been there on every escapade you'd let me in on. I'm tired of playing the sidekick, but you won't have to worry about that this time. No, you're on your own, Potter, and I hope you're happy. You'll get the fame and fortune, but what will it be worth? Will the cost be worth it? What are you willing to sacrifice this time?" Ginny paused for a moment and wiped a tear out of her eye. "These are the last tears I'm going to shed for you, Harry. I'll tell Mum you want your funeral closed casket, because from what Hermione tells me, I don't know that there will be enough of you for me to recognise."

"It's not going to be like that, Sparkplug," Harry pleaded, but fell silent at Ginny's thunderous expression.

"Don't… you don't get to call me that… ever." She wiped her face once more and strode wordlessly away. When she got to the foot of the stairs she turned slightly towards him. "It's all for a girl, isn't it?" she asked.

"Erm… not… I mean," Harry stammered. He knew Hermione had figured it out, but he'd hoped desperately that his Ginny would remain ignorant until she calmed down and he could explain things properly to her. Unfortunately, her perceptive nature once again brought him up short. Her scowl deepened to a level Harry had never seen in all his time with her.

"I hope she's bloody well worth it." And with that Harry saw the Ginny of his childhood slip away as she stormed up the stairs.

_AN: UPDATE MAN strikes yet another blow for Truth, Justice and the Fanfiction way! A special thanks to the mysterious superhero 'The Berliner' who helped translate and fix my awful German in chapter 7. Like so many recurring heros, 'The Berliner' arrived in the nick of time to save TEAM UPDATE from the clutches of Lost in Translation. A minor but critical villain set to thwart TEAM UPDATE's plans to expand their fight outside English speaking countries. Seriously, thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story so far and I hope that you enjoy the ratcheting tensions. As a side note I have to give credit to 'Calendar Girls' for some of Seamus' dialogue. I've been wanting to use it for ages._


	9. Molly Troubles

Ch 9 Molly Troubles

"Bloody hell, Harry, you've been moping for two weeks now," Ron complained. "It isn't as though we aren't supporting you."

Harry gave his friend a disbelieving look. "Ginny still won't talk to me and now you and Hermione are fighting so she isn't around much either."

"Mate, women are mad, positively barmy."

"Definitely off their trolley," Neville chimed in.

"Dodgy at best," Dean supplied.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry responded a morosely.

"Look at it this way, Harry," Seamus offered. "If they're all as barmy as we think, then there isn't any reason to get hung up on one. Just find the fittest bird with the best set of fun bags and have a good time."

"Jesus Christ!" Dean exclaimed, hitting his friend. "Don't you bloody well think about anything else?"

Seamus fixed Dean with a withering glare. "When you find one thing that's worth thinking about as much as a good set of dirty pillows, I'll consider it. In the meantime, I've got to ask," Seamus turned to Ron. "How were they?"

"How were what?" Ron replied.

"The set on your girl. She's got to have let you play a bit, yeah?"

"Shut your face, Seamus," Ron snapped. "She's not my girl, anyway."

"Isn't she, then? Can I have go?"

"Piss off," Ron growled.

"Told you she was your girl. I mean, she bloody well makes moon eyes at you every meal. I'm surprised she hasn't started trying to follow you to class to 'observe' or something like that. If you think you're being coy, it isn't working. You two do much observing in the astronomy tower?" Seamus winked.

Ron's breathing became a little more uneven and he shut his eyes briefly, struggling not to try and choke the Irish boy. "We've talked a few times between lessons. She isn't interested like that."

"My arse," Dean scoffed. "Ron, mate, as your dorm mates we have to tell you it's in your best interest to make a move on that soon. Stake your territory. I mean she bloody well lives with Viktor Krum, and there aren't many birds that can resist that kind of temptation."

"Get a leg over and she's yours until you're done with her," Neville agreed. The entire group stared at him with wide eyes.

"Who the hell told you that?" Seamus demanded, clearly distraught that such a vital piece of teenage information was kept from him.

"My Uncle Algie, of course he was pretty pissed at the time, so I don't know if it counts."

"Bloody well right it counts! I need to start writing these things down. I can write a book and I'll make a fortune," Seamus declared.

Ron stood and glowered at the group of boys. "Grow up, you lot. It's not like I'm just going to shag her the first chance I get." Ron's voice had progressively gotten louder as he spoke, his anger becoming rather apparent.

The sudden gasp and strangled cry drew everyone's attention. Hermione stood a few yards behind him with tears threatening to fall. Without another word, Hermione ran past the assembled group and up the girls' staircase. Harry was sure she'd only heard the last part of the sentence.

"Sex me… am I going to have to kill a troll again to fix this?" Harry asked aloud.

"No, mate, girls really are mad, barmy and dodgy all falling off a trolley. I don't know what you'd have to kill to fix this one. I'm headed to bed. See you all in the morning."

"What's up his bum?" Seamus asked.

"You have the emotional depth of a teaspoon," Neville informed him. "I'm off as well."

"You in a strop, too?" Seamus looked at Harry.

He shrugged. "I guess, but I'm going for a walk."

"Bloody hell, was it something I said?" Seamus wondered aloud.

"It's always something you said," Dean informed him. "Now I'm going to finish the essay for Charms."

oOo

The forest was cold and dark that night, as Harry made his rounds. It seemed all his friends were fighting about something. Ron and Hermione, Ron and most anyone at this point, Merlin and Crookshanks, though their fight had moved from mollies into defending their respective pets. Ginny wasn't talking to him and he'd had another difficult time finding the Unicorns. He'd had a good visit a few days into September, but they'd gone and disappeared again. The Kneazles were still on friendly terms with him, but he'd gotten another earful tonight from both Mother and Father about Merlin coming around. It seemed Ginny's talk with him didn't sink in all the way. He hadn't even tried to explain to Mum how horribly wrong her advice had gone, because he wasn't sure he was strong enough to fix it. He could only trust that maybe his Sparkplug would come back around.

'Wooo…. little Kneazle, we are the ghosts of mouses you've eaten. Do as we say, or indigestion will come your way.' The spooky voice would have been much spookier, if he hadn't spotted the two horribly obvious Thestrals as soon as they began talking.

'Hello, Constance, Abbot. How are you?' Harry asked politely.

'Sautéed pigeons on a cracker, he can see us!' Abbot exclaimed.

'Yes, I can. You're right in front of me. I'd have to be blind not to. Just coming back from scaring the Acromantula?'

'Well, usually our camouflage prevents anyone from really seeing us, but I suppose you're more observant than most,' Abbot noted.

'Yes, we are. Fred didn't want to stay late tonight, though we were having the most marvellous time.'

'We were teaching them Irish dancing.'

'Why Irish dancing?' Harry asked, not entirely sure what separated Irish dancing from regular dancing. Perhaps Seamus would know. Maybe it had something to do with big busts.

'Fred does love Irish dancing, don't you, Fred?'

'Never mind him,' Constance confided. 'He's been in a strop the whole way back. Apparently the little spider on the end has eight left feet.'

'Well you were being no help at all,' Abbot complained. 'Fred isn't the only one who's a bit miffed at the moment.'

'What do I know about Irish dancing? I wanted to convince the little buggers to tap dance, but neither of you would have anything to do with that, so excuse me if I'm not a good dance coach,' Constance shot back.

'Fine,' Abbot huffed, 'but I'm still upset.'

'I see… anything I can do to help?' Harry asked, fervently hoping that there wasn't.

'Ohhh, I know!' Constance squealed. 'We can play a game.'

'A game?' Harry asked, already dreading the answer. If these particular Thestrals convinced Acromantula to dance for fun, what kind of game would they consider appropriate?

'Yes, a game. Hide-and-Go-Seek,' Abbot declared.

'Yes, Abbot and I will hide and you have to find us!' Constance squealed.

'What about Fred?' Harry asked.

'Oh, heavens no! Fred hates games.'

'You know, Fred seems a bit anti-social,' Harry pointed out.

'No, he's just shy around new people,' Abbot contradicted. 'Now, shall we get on with the game?'

'Erm… I really should be going. You know, the forest is a dangerous place for a Kneazle like me…'

'Pah!' Abbot scoffed. 'I should have figured a Hu-kneazle like you wouldn't want to play games with us.'

'What's a Hu-kneazle?'

'You're half human, half Kneazle. We thought you were mythical, like smart pigeons, or automobiles.'

'We call them cars, and how do you know I'm a Hu-kneazle?'

'Fred saw you. You're that boy from the carriage, which explains why you can see us now and why we can talk to you. We don't talk to the regular Kneazles. They can't dance.'

'Oh…' was all Harry could say.

'If you play a game with us now, we'll play one you want to later.'

'Any game I want?' Harry asked, and instantly visions of being able to dive bomb Malfoy popped into his head.

'Any game, but only when we're around.'

'Of course, it would be difficult to play a game with us when we're not around,' Constance pointed out.

'Sure,' Harry agreed. 'How do we play?'

'Well, you close your eyes, count to thirty, and we hide.'

'Then you have to find us.'

'That's it? How many times do we have to do this?' Harry asked.

'Usually we only do it once, because no one has ever been able to find us before.'

'I see. Well, do I start now?'

'Yes, please do! Oh, this is so exciting! We haven't been able to play in such a long time,' Constance gushed.

'Ok… one… two…'

Harry finally reached thirty and slowly opened his eyes. All his senses were on high alert. If they'd played this game before and no one had ever managed to spot them, then it would take a master of hunting to track the wily Thestrals. Harry scanned the forest looking for signs and nearly began mewing with laughter. Through a few obfuscating bushes and low hanging branches, Harry spotted both Thestrals apparently 'hiding'. They were both standing in ridiculous positions next to a tight group of trees.

'I think he's about… EAHHH!' Abbot screamed when a large paw swatted his hock.

'Found you!' Harry exclaimed, running over and tapping Constance for good measure.

'You cheated!' Abbot protested.

'I what?' Harry asked, his ears flat.

'No one has ever spotted us before, much less that quickly. You cheated. We must play again.'

'Fine…' Harry grumbled. The things he was going to have to put up with in order to get Malfoy.

Thirty minutes and eight games later, they finally called in enough. 'I've never seen such masterful seeking before,' Constance continued. Abbot was still fuming about Harry finding them each time within a minute or two of the start.

'It wasn't that hard,' Harry muttered. They apparently thought he was blind because it wasn't until the last round that they even bothered hiding behind something.

'Oh, very skilled. I hope you can come play again.'

'Sure, but no time soon,' Harry assured them.

'Well, do let us know what game you want to play.'

'As long as we're here, of course.'

'Right, as long as we're here and not somewhere else. Will Fred like this game, do you think?'

'I don't know,' Harry responded. 'What kind of games does he like?'

'None. We haven't found one yet, but we're always looking for new ones to try. Do let us know if you think he'd like the one you want to play. The only thing that upsets him more than being asked to play games he doesn't like, is being excluded from ones he does,' Abbot confided. 'He's a bit touchy like that, but don't tell him I said so. Well, we must be off! Don't let the Boggarts get you.'

'Oh, Boggarts, you are the limit, Abbot,' Constance whinnied and both Thestrals took off into the night.

Harry shook his head and made his way back inside, through another conveniently unlocked Kneazle sized door in the side of the castle. It seemed there were quite a few of these, because every time Harry needed to get in, there was never one far away.

The trip to the Gryffindor Tower seemed to take even less time than normal. Maybe for once the stars were aligning for him. The staircases were in the right spots, no teachers were lurking about and, when he passed an alcove on the third floor, discovered that Crookshanks had Mrs. Norris occupied in rather physical pursuits, which afforded Harry the opportunity to avoid Filch and gave him another good reason to poke his eyes out with a blunted letter opener.

Another small door had been left open next to the portrait of the fat lady, which meant that four paws could carry him into bed that night, making a mental note to change back once he was safely in his dormitory. Harry took another second to relish his time on four paws before heading through the small door.

"Ron, I can't believe you'd both take his side on this!" Ginny screamed

"I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just saying give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you and I think you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion," Ron defended himself. Harry watched silently. Ginny had been cornered by Hermione and Ron.

He supposed he could understand Ginny. Ron had likely tried to talk to her and as Harry knew better than almost anyone, she could take a very long time to calm down. He was sure Hermione's presence didn't help things either.

"Ron, he said he was doing it for a girl!"

"Did he actually say that?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ginny admitted, "But he didn't deny it. I saw it in his eyes."

"Just talk to him, Ginny," Ron pleaded. "You can't see it, but you're killing him. He hasn't been himself for weeks."

"Why? So he can go impress his mystery woman? If that's all you can say, I'm going to bed. I don't need this shite. We've been friends since we were three and he didn't even think he could tell me about this. I don't know about you, Hermione, but I'm not going to wait around for Harry to get himself killed. He's on his own this time."

"It's hurting you, too," Hermione observed. "Just give him a chance."

"To hurt me again? I don't think so. I can take him or leave him. It makes no odds to me."

"Which is why we found you down here crying your sodding eyes out. Ginny, I know my best mate, and he hasn't even mentioned something about another girl," Ron challenged.

"And that's something blokes talk about, is it?" Hermione challenged.

"He'd have at least said if he snogged her!"

"Maybe he doesn't want to shag her the first chance he gets," Hermione accused.

"Hermione, this isn't about me," Ron stammered.

"No, it isn't, because the Ron I knew wouldn't even think about doing something so bloody awful!"

"I told you that wasn't what I said. If you'd stop being so bloody thick about everything we wouldn't have to fight like this," Ron snapped.

Harry wanted to run, but he, like Ginny stood transfixed at the sight of the brewing storm, knowing he was powerless to stop it.

"We wouldn't? You aggravate me on purpose, for what reason I can't fathom. You still haven't returned my Arithmancy notes and you spend more time mooning over that slag than doing your homework."

Ron snorted rudely. "Excuse me for not returning something you haven't even needed this year, and I'm sorry that some of us can actually get a date. You know, I'm not even sure if a Centaur would ask you out at this point."

"You rude, arrogant… Git!" Hermione shouted, heedless of the late hour.

"You're an insufferable know-it-all! I can't believe I thought you were…" Ron stopped mid-bellow, his face turning bright red, whether with embarrassment or anger, Harry couldn't tell.

For another few seconds, the temperature in the room seemed to rise while neither spoke, merely glaring intensely at the other.

Ginny finally broke the silence. "If you two decide to snog or shag or whatever it is you're planning on doing tonight, you better get on with it before a prefect comes down here, or Harry gets back. I don't think he wants to see either of you starkers. Now if you'd kindly keep it down, good night." The part-time lion turned on her heel and stomped angrily up the stairs to where her bed lay.

"Snog?" Hermione asked rhetorically.

"Shag, really? Who says I'd even be interested," Ron scoffed.

"Oh, and I suppose you think you're such a catch? It would be like kissing a clothes line."

"Better than trying to snog around those buckteeth."

"You horrible… I'm surprised any girl would even look at you. I doubt you would even know what to do?"

"Helene and I manage just fine," Ron barked. The look on both combatants' faces told Harry instantly that both wished that Ron could take it back. It was said, however, and often words cut deeper than any spell. Hermione, to her credit, never let Ron see her cry and Ron, much to his chagrin, never got the chance to try and apologise.

Instead, the red-haired boy stood at a loss as one of his first friends ran to the safety of her bed. It killed him to know he was the one who sent her there, but with the way she was acting, what was he supposed to do?

"You really shouldn't have brought up the German molly," Harry observed, making Ron nearly jump out of his skin.

"Merlin, Harry, you scared me. How long have you been there?"

"Long enough. You should apologise when you get a chance."

"Yeah, I suppose. How?"

"Give her notes back."

"I will… soon as I'm finished with them."

"Ron, what are you doing with those anyway? I see you looking at them late at night. Can you really understand them?"

"I'm getting better," Ron replied, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. It seemed this was a conversation he really didn't want to have.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you later, Harry. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Shouldn't you?" Harry retorted.

"I would be, except I'm trying to get my git of a sister to stop punishing you for doing something remarkably stupid. It isn't like it's the first time, is it?"

"That she was a git or I've done something stupid? Yes, to the first and no, to the second. I just wish I could understand why she's so mad at me!"

"She thinks you're using the tournament as a way to impress a girl."

"I am… or I was," Harry admitted.

"Something change, or did you just decide that was an idiotic reason and you'd try for a better one?"

"What, are you going to get shirty with me, too?" Harry demanded.

"No, bloody hell, Harry, I get what girls make you want to do. I'd take on He-Who-Must -Not-Be-Named himself for her. Entering this, though, I thought you were smarter than that. I don't know who you've got yourself set on, but if you have to get her attention with this, then I don't think she's the type of girl…"

"Molly."

"Right, molly, that you'd want to introduce to Uncle S," Ron concluded.

"You really think so?"

"Harry, I hope it works out with your mystery girl, but if she doesn't like you for you, then forget about her."

oOo

The next morning the frostiness in the air had nothing to do with the decided chill of the weather. Hermione was looking murderous and Ginny was nowhere to be seen as the Gryffindors headed to breakfast. Even Seamus noticed the distinct cold-war feeling to the air.

"I keep thinkin' someone's going to try and hex me. It's downright irritating," the Irish boy complained.

"What are you so worried about? It's got nothing to do with you," Ron mumbled, still somewhat asleep.

As they sat down at breakfast, Harry noticed that some of the various non-champions seemed to be missing. "The Durmstrang group seems a bit smaller, so does Beauxbatons."

"Nah, the Frenchies are just split between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," Dean pointed out.

"Right, but Durmstrang is a bit smaller," Ron countered.

"Your girlfriend is the only one I don't see, though she's got assets enough for half the table," Seamus joked. He didn't anticipate the blast of cold water from Lavender's wand. "Oi! What was that for?"

"You're a pig, Seamus," Lavender declared with all of her dorm mates nodding appreciatively.

"Now I'm going to be freezing for Potions, just what I always… wanted," Seamus finished in a half-hearted voice, his eyes going wide.

"What, have I got something on my face?" Ron asked, when the other boy's gaze didn't waver from his direction. "I'm sorry to say, mate, but you're not really my type."

"Zat is good to hear, Ron vis no last name," the high pitched accented voice of Fraulein Himmelreich caused Ron to spin in his seat, knocking over his drink. Harry had to admit that the blood red robes of Durmstrang had to be magically charmed. He wondered, based on the strong scent of perfume and hair spray, what exactly this molly was up to. She was hunting for a tom, that was for sure, but which one? Ron was the strongest possibility, but there were always mollies, human ones especially, that tried to play coy. He'd have to have a talk with this one later, for the best interests of his friend, of course.

"Oh, Helene, how are you?" Ron stammered out. "It's a good evening, I mean breakfast… morning, you know. Care to sit down?"

"I don't think we have enough room, Ron," Hermione growled. Ron ignored her, except to send his friend a particularly venomous look

"Of course we do!" Seamus declared, budging Dean down into Parvati and opening up just enough space for the older girl to squeeze between them. Lavender and Parvati shared a long suffering look while at the same time allowing pitying glances for Hermione.

"Oh, danke, I did not know how much time I vould haf zis morning. I woke up late und zen had to get dressed. You know," she continued in a much softer voice so that Harry suspected that only Ron, Seamus and he could hear her. "It is so very difficult to get dressed on time ven all you are vearing is… nichts."

Ron's face suddenly went beet red and he began choking a little. "Oh my! Es tut mir leid," Helene continued. Harry noticed when she seemed upset, her English skills went out the window.

"Oh, honestly. Some of us are trying to eat here," Hermione complained loudly.

"I vould ask zat you haff a little compassion for your freund," Helene chastised. As the coughing subsided, the German girl ran her hand soothingly over his back. "All better?"

"Yeah," Ron croaked.

"You know," Helene offered in low tones, "sometime I vould very much like to show you ze ship." She was rather close to him now, Harry noticed. Her left hand was on his friend's shoulder and the other had sneakily encompassed his. Harry wasn't sure Ron had noticed. He also wasn't sure Ron was breathing. Focusing intently, his Kneazle senses could just barely pick out the slow rise and fall of his friend's chest. Good, heart attacks over breakfast had a way of souring the day from the get-go. Induced blackouts from blood loss to the brain, however, could help you skive off classes. Harry wasn't sure which was more likely.

WHAM! The loud slamming of book to table took everyone by surprise.

"Ron, we have class," Hermione announced officiously.

"We do?" Ron asked.

"We do?" Harry echoed.

"You might not, Harry, but the rest of us who didn't spend the first two years jumping out of windows have History of Magic."

"Oh, right, because that is so much more stimulating and important than fighting Acromantula, befriending Unicorns and catching mice," he argued.

"You haff fought Acromantula?" Helene asked, suddenly intrigued. "I saw von vunce, but I ran away. Ron, you did not tell me you had such fun freunds. Gretel would just love to meet you," Helene batted her eyes.

"On second thought, Harry perhaps you do have class? Isn't your Ancient Runes now?"

"Not for a little while, Hermione, and the Hufflepuffs are always late."

"I didn't know you were taking that," Neville sounded shocked. "Why aren't you with everyone else, then?"

"Shockingly, the entire Hufflepuff house decided to take it all together, and because of a last minute schedule conflict involving Divination, Muggle Studies and a rather large vat of chocolate, there are two Ancient Rune classes this year. One of them happens to be in the same time slot as History of Magic, thus due to a conflict I was divided from my House and placed amongst the heathen badger," Harry informed them.

"Badger's are heathens?" Dean asked, finally having disentangled himself from Seamus' whispering.

"Pleasant as all this is, we must be getting to class," Hermione demanded, as Helene leaned a little bit further into Ron's shoulder.

"We've got nearly twenty mo… ORMMMM!" Seamus bit off a scream at an apparent assault on his person, and judging by Lavender's rather intense stare, Harry bet that she had everything to do with it.

"You're right, Hermione, we really should be going," Lavender reaffirmed, and Parvati agreed.

"Coming, Seamus?" Lavender asked, batting her eyes in a poor imitation of the German interloper.

"Erm… yeah, I guess," he stumbled to his feet and slapped Dean on the shoulder which caused the darker boy to rise as well.

"We really should be going, Ron. Don't want to be late, after all," Hermione emphasized.

Unfortunately, Hermione's subtle attempt at prying Ron away from Fraulein Himmelreich was being quite easily thwarted as the German girl ran her hands through Ron's mop of hair.

"It is so soft, vaht do you do to it?" Helene cooed.

"Erm… nothing really. You know, just wash it and…" Ron's personal hygiene regimen was to remain a mystery for the time being as he found himself roughly dragged to his feet by Harry.

"You've got to get going, mate. Everyone else has." Ron looked around and it did seem that every other fourth-year Gryffindors had indeed vacated the table. "History of Magic, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." As Ron turned to leave, a hand grabbed his.

"Vould you like to study togesser this evening? I know little about English history."

"Are you any good at Potions?" Ron replied.

"Very, all my freunds ask for me to make zem some."

"Brilliant. I suppose maybe after dinner? Do you know where the library is?"

"Yes, I vill see you zere." With that Helene rose, winked, and sauntered off in a manner that had even Harry staring at her gently swaying posterior.

"Bloody hell, they have to use charms to get robes to move like that."

"Why don't you ask a girl who would know?" Harry suggested.

Ron scoffed, "Because Ginny is my sister and that's weird. Parvati and Lavender would slap me, and I really don't think that Hermione is the type of girl to do that."

"And there's no one else?"

"No one I think wouldn't hex me."

"Fair enough, your loss."

"Why don't you ask then, if you're so brave?" Ron demanded.

Harry smirked. "Because I didn't ask the question."

oOo

"Professor, I've been sent to fetch Harry," Colin Creevey informed the ill-tempered Professor Snape.

"He can go when he's finished brewing his potion," the surly Potion Master informed the excitable third year.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I was given very important instructions by people more important than you that I must fetch him immediately. It's for the Tournament. All the Champions have to go; they're going to take photographs."

"Very well," Snape growled. "Potter! You're excused, but be back later to test your antidote."

"But sir," Colin protested.

"Just get out!"

Harry nodded, failing to hide the grin on his face as he strode from the room.

"More important than you, really?" Harry asked Colin when they were out of earshot.

"Brilliant, wasn't it? I mean it isn't as good as some of the stuff I heard you've told the pompous git, but I like to think it was impressive for me."

"Come off it, Colin, I haven't done anything that spectacular," Harry scoffed.

"Nothing that spectacular? Harry, you saved this school from a basilisk, duelled a Death Eater and become the Champion for Hogwarts. Let alone all the other brilliant things I've heard you've done."

"I've also had more detentions than I can count and lost Gryffindor nearly a thousand points."

"Stupid, old points, who cares about them anyway? I know you don't," Colin gushed.

"Who says I don't?"

"You did, last week and a couple times last year. I have to say, you might be right. Ginny doesn't care about them either."

"What do you know about Ginny?" Harry rounded on the smaller boy.

"She's your friend, and we're sort of friends. I mean, we work together in Potions. No big deal, really. Not like we're going out or anything?"

"But you want to?" Harry tried to keep his voice light as he asked.

"Nah, she's pretty, I suppose, but there's this girl in Slytherin… Cassandra." The next minutes of the walk Harry wasn't sure Colin was even aware of his presence as the third-year rambled about the wonders of the mysterious Slytherin. While he was pleased that the younger boy didn't have designs on his Ginny, he was also getting tired of listening about a girl he was sure could never compare. Both of which were why he was so glad to be finally in the presence of McGonagall, Dumbledore the other two champions, Ludo Bagman, Ollivander and a witch whom Harry failed to recognise.

"Harry, my boy! Just in time, splendid. Now we're going to weigh your wands. Need to make sure they're fully functional and all that. Afterwards we're doing a photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," Crouch said, pointing at the previously unknown witch. "She'll be doing a little piece on the tournament."

"Perhaps not that little, Ludo," Skeeter replied. "I was wondering perhaps, if I might have a word with Harry before we start? He is the Hogwarts' Champion after all, and I think it would give a nice angle for our readers."

"Provided Harry has no objections." Bagman smiled broadly.

"I suppose not?" Harry wasn't sure if he should say yes or no. He vaguely remembered a nicely done article about the Ministry this summer, but at the same time, even Sebastian had said quite a few disparaging things about reporters.

"Excellent. Right this way." Rita escorted him into a small room with an equally small desk where she sat and pulled out several rolls of parchment and an oddly coloured quill. "You won't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? We can converse more easily that way."

"Mmmm…" Harry murmured in a non-committal tone. He stared intently, there was something just not right about the woman. She apparently she took his answer for a yes and proceeded to the interview.

"Now, why did you decide to enter the tournament?" Rita asked. The quill began to write of its own accord and Harry eyed it suspiciously. "Ignore the quill, Harry. Why did you decide to enter the tournament?"

Harry continued to stare at the quill, reading its words upside down. "I did it for a molly," Harry replied.

"A girl? Oh, our readers do love a dashing hero, who is she? What's she like?"

Harry smiled a sappy sort of smile and his eyes unfocused for a moment. "Brilliant, there isn't another one like her. She's smart, powerful, and strong."

"It sounds to me like you're in love," Skeeter prompted.

"Tail over whiskers, and she's got the cutest bum."

"Well, our readers wish you the best. Now, do you remember your parents at all? How do you think they would feel about you entering? Worried? Angry? Proud?"

"Which ones?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I don't understand."

"Which set of parents? I can't answer if you don't tell me."

"You have more than one set?"

"Biologically, no, that would be stupid, but family is more than which tom stuck his willie into which molly who then squeezed you out, isn't it? Family is about, morals, values and a bond. It's about who was there to teach you to hunt, stalk, and slink silently through the tall grass. Family is the warm fuzzy feeling when you are stuck at the bottom of the pile of your siblings and you can feel the love of their rumbling purrs. Family, Miss Skeeter, is having a brother who's willing to rabbit kick you in the head one minute and kill a dog for you the next. So, which are you referring to? My set of biological parents, or the family I grew up with?"

"Well, I would certainly love to know more about where you did grow up, Harry. The whole Wizarding world has been asking that for some time."

"What does that have to do with the tournament?"

"Well, everything to do with you has to do with…"

"Will you be asking Viktor or Miss Delacour the same?"

"Well, no, but we're much more interested…"

"You know, Miss Skeeter, there's something off about you. Are you afraid of bowtruckles?" Harry interrupted.

"Why on earth would I be? Now, getting back…"

"Because you remind me of a bug. A cockroach or perhaps woodlice. I would think your boggart would most definitely be a hoard of bowtruckles descending upon you." Harry paused for another moment

"Harry, dear, that's ridiculous. Now I have a few more questions," Rita smiled in a rather disconcerting way. It did nothing to put to rest Harry's suspicions.

"No, I think we're done here, I don't like bugs and you have an unhealthy interest in me. Rather like fleas. I've no interest in taking a flea bath, so bugger off." With that Harry strode from the room in time for the first picture with the other two champions.

"Vaht vas that about?" Krum asked.

Harry shrugged, "Some batty insect woman wanted to know about a molly I fancy and all about my family. I told her to piss off. If I were you, I'd do the same. There's just something not right about her."

"I vill take that into consideration," Krum muttered as the first flashbulb went off.

oOo

Next morning, Harry groggily went to breakfast. He'd had another smashing time in the Forest the night before, but it was tinged with sadness when the Unicorns kept asking him where Ginny was. He had to explain to them that he and the lioness weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. 'Young Love' was all Ponil had said about the matter.

When he finally made it to breakfast, late, he supposed, there was something very obviously wrong. Ron was staring intently at Hermione's copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and almost completely ignoring Helene's attempts to get his attention. This alone would have raised Harry's suspicions, but the fact that this action was being repeated by nearly every student with access to a newspaper was positively shocking.

Harry sat down and asked, "Anything I missed?"

Ron looked up and shook his head sadly. "Ginny's going to have your balls on a platter, mate. I'm sorry to tell you, but if this tournament doesn't finish you off, my sister will."

"What on earth are you talking about, Ron?"

"Take a look," Hermione replied, disgusted. She slammed the newspaper down in front of Harry. Front and centre was a picture of Harry with the other two champions nowhere to be seen. The headline read 'Boy Who Lived now lives for a girl'.

_Harry Potter may be the youngest champion in the fabled Tri-Wizard tournament, but he's not too young to already have fallen in love. i"She's powerful, beautiful, and strong," Harry confides. While he only identified this girl as 'Molly', we here at the Prophet can safely assume that if he has his way, the Boy Who Lived won't ever live to make our Most Eligible Bachelor list./i_

"It goes on for a good bit more," Ron muttered. "I really don't think you said most of what was in there.

"All about this?"

"Not strictly speaking. There's a bit about you crying over your parents and some speculation about where you grew up, saying that you thought you had more than one family."

"I do, sort of."

"They also interviewed a few other people about you, too," Neville chimed in.

"Anything worth reading?"

"Not really. Colin said you were friends with Hermione and Ginny and she made a few rather oblique references to a love triangle, but that sort of contradicted the opening piece. So I'm not sure what her angle is. Malfoy said a few things too."

"That git hates me. Nothing he says is worth the breath he used to say it," Harry scoffed.

"I know that, but frankly the whole thing kind of paints you as a hormone-obsessed loon," Ron finished.

"Oh, is that all?"

"Aren't you worried about it?" Hermione demanded. "They're slandering you."

"Not really. I did do it for a girl, her name just isn't Molly. I don't know where the bug-woman got that. I don't cry over my parents and as far as speculation, that's all it is. I doubt anyone would believe the truth anyway."

"I find it razzer bozersome zat they did not mention a single sing about eezer of ze ozzer two champions," Helene announced.

"No one was asking you what you found bozzersome," Hermione spat.

"I vould sink zat Ron might care, don't you?"

"What? Oh, yes, very much so!" Ron affirmed quickly as Helene ground herself a little more firmly into him. She was rather… parasitic in that manner, Harry thought.

At that particular moment several first year Hufflepuffs came running into the hall, one of whom was the small blonde girl whom Ron had helped a few weeks prior. "Hi, Ron!" she shouted.

Ron turned as far as he was able with Helene still firmly attached and waved with his free arm. "Bridget, what are you up to?"

She walked briskly over to her older friend and launched into an explanation of her morning's events. "Well, one of those Slytherin boys was making fun of our prefect, Cedric,"

"Cedric Diggory?" Hermione asked and perked up a little.

"Yes, do you know him?" Bridget asked.

"No, but I know he's brilliant."

"Oh, he's very smart. He spends loads of time with my friends and me helping us with Transfiguration and Charms. I'm not very good at them yet. Anyway, one of those Slytherin boys started making fun of Cedric because of something silly and then about how he couldn't have been so perfect if he couldn't even beat out a fourth-year for Champion. I don't like that boy much."

"So he insulted a friend of yours. That doesn't explain why you are running in here like there's a boarhound on your heels," Ron pressured.

"Because… we got him!" Bridget informed the assembled group with a flourish of her hands. "Joe had a case of Dungboms his brother bought him and Tim was able to do something where he turned them into a paste."

"You dumped a bucket of liquefied Dungbombs on an upper year Slytherin?" Neville asked in disbelief.

"He didn't see us do it, though," Bridget confirmed.

"Why are you running so quickly, then? He couldn't have known it was you," Ron questioned.

"Well… he wouldn't have, but then Tim jumped out from behind that big suit of armour coming up from the dungeons and kicked him right between the legs, and Tim's a footballer."

"So why does he blame you?" Seamus asked.

"Tim may or may not have screamed 'Badger attack!' So I suppose he blames the whole house."

"I'm assuming from your innocent expression that he did. Why in Merlin's name would you go and purposefully attack a boy much bigger and more experienced than you? You already got him with the prank," Ron finished, exasperated.

"Because… that's what Harry Potter would do!" Bridget beamed and pointed at her apparent idol. "Tim said we couldn't let the bloody git get away with being mean to Cedric, and he'd heard that Harry had tackled seven Slytherins from the back of a dragon, and he won! I mean, we can't do that, because we're just first years, and we don't have a dragon, but we're going to show them how fierce Badgers are!" Bridget declared.

"Where are they?" A voice bellowed, its owner apparently enraged.

"Oops! That's my cue," Bridget giggled, but Ron grabbed her arm and dragged her to the table, forcing her underneath.

"You've not enough time to hide with your House. He'll see you for certain," Ron explained. "Just stay low and don't come out until we say so."

"Where are they?" an enraged Donald Rosier demanded. He was a tall, but lanky, sixth-year known for his rapier wit and disregard for what was deemed proper. His normal hair colour was obscured by a thick brown paste that made Harry's eyes water as he passed, and the boy was walking with a slight wince and grimace. His hands were twitching rapidly. Whether he was trying to keep them from pulling out his wand and hexing every Hufflepuff at their table, or grabbing his groin in pain again, Harry couldn't tell.

"Where are they, Diggory?" Rosier demanded.

"Who? Merlin, you need to take a shower before you come in here. I think you might put some of the girls off their breakfast."

"I know you put them up to it," Rosier growled, inching closer to Cedric's face. He turned abruptly at the sound of a loud protest behind him.

"Stop kicking me you bint!" Bridget had emerged from beneath the Gryffindor table and was scowling furiously at Helene, who, still attached to Ron's arm, looked thoroughly unconcerned with the trouble the younger girl was now in.

"You!" Rosier roared and, in his most intimidating gait, strode towards the small Hufflepuff.

"Back off now, mate," Ron warned as Donald drew his wand.

"Shut it, blood-traitor. She's got what's coming, or are you going to jump in front of another wand, Weasley? That does seem to be all you're good for."

"Leave my brother alone!" Ginny demanded, standing up a few seats down.

"Where are the bloody teachers?" Seamus asked no one in particular.

"Cleaning up my mess, I suspect," Bridget answered cheekily. Unfortunately, Rosier dug his wand in between the young girl's eyes.

"I don't think you'll be so cheeky when you're a toad, or perhaps a dung beetle? That would be poetic justice, wouldn't it?"

The Hufflepuff table exploded with anger, but no one was quite willing to hex the aggressor in case he managed to get little Bridget first. The Gryffindors were in a similar state, and though the first-year had backed up a little bit, she was finally aware of how much danger she very well could be in. Her head swivelled rapidly trying to find a sign on how to get her out of this mess, when her eyes landed on Harry.

Harry could spot what needed to be done, but he was hardly in a position to do it. The rouge in front of them had a kitten at wand point and he could hex her six times before anyone, save possibly Ron, could stop him. When her eyes met his, he mouthed two words and though it took several repetitions, the light in her face told him she understood.

Ron, on the other hand, had had enough. Bridget was his friend, as odd as it was to say that. He knew he shouldn't find friends with a Hufflepuff three years his junior, but after the first time he'd talked to her, he knew they were kindred spirits. So, shaking off Helene's grip he stood slowly and looked the much more imposing Slytherin in the eye. "Leave her alone."

"Shut up, cripple, or I'll make sure you never walk again," Rosier growled and pushed Ron hard enough that he sat back down with an uncomfortable thud.

"Leave my brother alone," Ginny demanded once more, leaving her spot at the table and walking towards the older boy.

"What are you going to do?" he sneered.

Bridgett saw her chance when his attention was on Harry's girlfriend (that's what everyone said they were, anyway.) "Badger Attack!" she screamed and delivered a devastating knee to her tormentor's groin.

Donald Rosier stumbled back and sunk to his knees grasping his groin with both hands for the second time that day, thus allowing his target to elude him yet again. "Come on boys!" Bridgett shouted and her two partners in crime bolted from the Hufflepuff table, each carrying some form of breakfast, and out the doors.

"You know," Dean finally observed, "Professor Moody was up there the whole time. Why didn't he stop it?"

"Must find it funny," Seamus replied. "Pass the bacon?"

"Sure."

oOo

"Hogsmeade today!" Seamus exclaimed as all five boys descended their dormitory stairs.

"You have a date?" Dean joked.

"No, but we can't go to Honeydukes just any day of the week."

"So, Seamus is off on a sugar binge and I can't imagine Dean far behind, where are you up to, Harry?" Neville asked.

"I dunno, here, there most places, I suppose."

"Ron?" Neville looked at the final member of the group.

"Erm… I'm meeting Helene there," Ron mumbled his face turning red.

"I don't understand why you like her." Neville shook his head. "I mean she hangs on to you like a drowning man to a piece of wood and she ratted your little Hufflepuff friend out. I'd say chuck her, mate."

"She didn't kick Bridget on purpose," Ron defended.

"Ron, she said the girl stunk like poo and was ruining her appetite. She did it on purpose," Neville snapped. "I really don't know why you fancy her so much."

"Because she's got huge sweater cows!" Seamus exclaimed. "And she's always grinding them into him. If I had a girl with melons like that she could kick all me friends."

"Gee thanks," Dean scoffed.

"Not that I don't love you, mate, you just don't have the assets I'm interested in," Seamus defended.

"Can we please stop discussing my girlfriend's tits?" Ron demanded.

"She's your girlfriend now?" Dean and Seamus asked in unison.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Ron sighed.

"Is that why you're always off late at night? Trying for a bit of snogging in an empty classroom? How far have you gotten? I mean has she let you touch…"

"That's not the reason I'm gone. It's not like I can't control myself," Ron defended.

"Oh? No need to lie to us, mate. If you aren't off trying for a bit of hot and bother, where are you going?"

Ron turned to the group, his face nearly as red as his hair. "Yes, fine, I'm off every night trying to remove her tonsils with my tongue and I hope to get a leg over next month. Now, can we please stop the interrogation?" Ron demanded. "What? That's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it?"

The other four boy's faces were frozen in various stages of shock and Neville raised a shaky finger, pointing. Ron turned slowly to see a seething Hermione behind him.

"Sex me…" Ron moaned.

"You really should check your surroundings," Harry advised him as Hermione stormed off.

Hogsmeade was rather dreary. Since Ron had run off with his German bint, Harry decided he was beginning to agree with Neville on this one. Dean and Seamus were daring each other to eat a cockroach cluster, and Neville had struck up a conversation with several Hufflepuffs. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, and the one person Harry really wanted to spend the day with, for the moment, hated his guts. This left him at a bit of a loose end. So, with nothing else to do, he headed over towards the remnants of the Shrieking Shack.

"Bark… Bark!" A large black dog bounded out of the tree line as soon as Harry got close. Harry smiled, despite himself and followed his dogfather, the infamous murderer back into the woods.

"Why are you back? I thought you were going someplace warm and sunny," Harry asked, as soon as the dog was once again human.

"I was, Harry, but as soon as I got this," Sirius held up a copy of the week-old newspaper, "I knew you'd need me. Did you really enter the tournament yourself?" Harry nodded. "I see. Harry, I'll be straight to the point, I don't think it was a good idea, but if it helps you catch the minx you're looking for then go right ahead, but be careful."

"Bloody hell, not you, too. That's all I've heard was how I'm going to be killed or to be careful. My eyes are open, you know."

"I don't doubt that, and I have every confidence you'll pass each Task admirably, but be careful of the other champions. Cheating is a traditional part of this whole thing, from what I understand, and with Karkaroff in close proximity it's no wonder that Dumbledore pulled Moody out of retirement."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry inquired.

"Karkaroff was a Death Eater, Harry, sold out at the end. Named names, put a whole bunch of others in Azkaban. Not a very popular fellow in there, let me tell you. Moody was the man who put him away, so Dumbledore must have brought him out of retirement for that reason. Not to mention I've heard stirrings of my own while I've been away. The signs are there, the dark forces are gathering again."

"Is Voldemort back?" Harry demanded.

"Not that I've heard, but some of his traditional supporters are getting a bit too confident for my liking. There have been disappearances, too, from what I've heard. Bertha Jorkins went missing. I was at school with Bertha, and she was never the fastest broom in the shed, but she had a damn fine sense of direction. Lost is the official story. I don't believe it, and don't you either. Stay alert, that's all."

"Will you be helping me?"

Sirius grinned. "I'll teach you anything I can."

_AN: Firstly, thank you for your patience. I know the first task has been coming for some time, but I promise… next chapter. Secondly, to answer a question, why does Seamus have such a… fixation? I don't know that he did, but there is always one boy in a group of teenagers that's like that and our favourite Irish student is the one here. Finally, I hope everyone liked the games Thestrals play, and yes, there is a point to it all. Where does Ron keep disappearing to? All will be revealed eventually my faithful readers. Thank you very much. I'll give you one hint; it likely isn't anywhere you're thinking… most of the time, anyway. As a side note: Es tut mir leid, translates out to 'I'm very sorry'. Also, ten cookies if anyone gets the reference behind Harry 'having his eyes open'. Remember, he is a cat… sort of. Thanks for the support._


	10. The Big One

'Harry! You've got to come quickly!' Merlin and Crookshanks were both on the edge of his bed as he blinked his eyes slowly.

"Whas wrong?"

'Dragons, sexing dragons, Harry. We need your help if we're going to chase them off.'

At the mention of Dragons, Harry rolled out of bed and ten minutes later they were headed with the entire pride to war.

'What on earth could dragons be doing here?' Rex demanded. 'There haven't been dragons around here since Frejya chased them off.'

'Things change," Merlin muttered ominously.

'Quiet,' Father ordered, and motioned for two toms to advance and scout the enemy.

Harry silently padded from his position in the back and moved next to the mated pair. 'What do you need me to do?'

'Have you got your magic stick?' Mum asked. Harry nodded. 'Anything you can, then.'

As the two toms returned they both looked quite puzzled. 'There are dragons, Father, three of them.'

'But there are humans with them, too.'

'Are they humans we recognise?'

'One had a familiar scent. Not one we know, but it was almost like the Ginny. The large man and his mate are with them too, at a safe distance, though.'

Harry's ears perked at that bit of news. 'I'm going to find out,' Harry declared and promptly headed into the night.

'Reckless kitten,' Mum admonished as his black form disappeared into the darkness. True enough, Harry caught sight of Hagrid speaking with none other than Charley Weasley, Madame Maxime at the Gamekeeper's side.

"Wha' kind yeh got here, Charlie?" Hagrid asked with no small amount of fascination.

"Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout and a Chinese Fireball. All nesting mothers, too, though I haven't the foggiest as to why. I don't envy whoever gets the Horntail, they're deadly on both ends. You know, Hagrid, you weren't supposed to be bringing anyone else."

"She's fine. Knew she'd appreciate 'em as much as me," Hagrid assured him. "They'll be all ready for the First Task then?"

Charlie nodded. "One for each champion. I'm just glad we didn't have to bring more. Three dragons are plenty for me."

'They'll be gone in a few days,' Harry began without preamble as soon as he'd returned to the waiting Pride.

'What do you mean? Do you know why they're here?' Mother demanded.

'They're here for me, sort of. I'm in a tournament and the First Task has something to do with dragons.'

'Well, why don't we just kill them now and save you the trouble?' Rex suggested. It was easy to tell she was spoiling for a fight.

'No, I have to do this on my own, in front of the humans.'

'On your own?' Mother screeched. 'I'll not have a son of mine facing down three dragons on his own.'

'It isn't three of them, just one, and I doubt I have to kill it. Humans are funny about killing things that can try and hurt you.'

'Then what do you have to do with it?' Mopar piped up from next to Rex.

'No idea, but I'm sure that I'll be fine. Really, there's no need for the Pride to get involved.'

'No need… Now see here, young tom, I won't have you risking your life just to impress a molly like this. We should help you.'

'You're the one who suggested I do something grand!' Harry protested.

'Yes, like killing a deer, not facing down a fully grown dragon on your own. Come, my Mate, we'll talk to Mcgonyowl about this.'

'Who's Mcgonyowl?' Harry asked.

'The tabby who teaches the kittens in the castle. Said she was your guardian.'

'McGonagall was out here, looking for me?' Harry asked faintly.

Rex nodded. 'Oh yes, was very curious to know what you'd been up to.'

'Did Mum tell her?'

'Not at first, but then you know how older mollies get. Started talking about sunbeams, kittens and hunting. I think Mum gave it all up.'

Harry, beneath his thick black fur, turned stark white. 'Bloody hell… I'm dead. She's going to kill me.'

'Why? That was two or three weeks ago. You're still alive now, aren't you?'

oOo

Harry sat staring at the moon and the puff of his breath, gently petting Crookshanks. He was glad tonight there wasn't an Astronomy class here, otherwise he'd have to find somewhere less pleasant to work through his jumbled thoughts.

'Harry, not that I mind, but you've been petting me for over an hour. What's going on?' the orange ball of fur asked.

"I have to battle a dragon."

'Doesn't sound so hard. I'm sure the Pride can help you, too.'

"No, Mother asked McGonagall about that, and McGonagall convinced her that this is something I have to do on my own. She said that I wasn't allowed help from outside people once the Task started. Top it all off that bloody Moody was no help at all. Told me to practice a simple spell that would get me what I need. Didn't make a bit of sense. Mr. Black has been helping me, but there is only so much I can do. It isn't like he can come in and help, even as a dog."

'That doesn't seem fair. I mean how are you supposed to battle a dragon on your own? Even dogs hunt in packs. The only time where Kneazles work alone is for dinner or impressing a mate.'

"That's why Mum was convinced to let me do it on my own," Harry chuckled mirthlessly. Crookshanks merely batted his tail with irritation. "I signed up for this whole bloody mess, just to impress a molly and now she won't even talk to me. I can't believe things were sexed up this badly."

'You know, she may just be worried for you. Mess this dragon about and then she'll be begging for your kittens.'

"I don't know, Mog. I mean, how did you get Norris?"

'Long story, Harry, but I did get her mice. Have you hunted for your molly yet?'

"No."

'There's your problem. She might think you're only interested in shagging her. You have to prove you can provide for the kittens.'

"Oh, bloody hell, Father told me the same thing. I just got so caught up in this whole mess I forgot," Harry moaned.

'Tell you what, kill your dragon and see if your molly wants you. If not, then go hunting.'

"She's a lion, Mog, I don't think mice would cut it."

'Isis! You're planning on mating Miss Weasley?'

"We're both a bit young for that. The humans have the term 'going out'."

'What's that mean?'

"It's hard to describe. It's kind of courting a molly for a while before she decides to mate you. Unless of course, she decides to shag you before you're properly mated."

'So you have to catch her mice all the time, be courteous and nice to her brothers, and give up your family all in the hope she lifts her tail? Sounds troublesome.'

"It is, but it's the way the Humans do things and as I seem to be part human, well, it complicates things."

'Have you just told her how you feel? I mean, did you explain to her why you entered the tournament?'

"Would you want to explain to an angry lion why you did something she seems to think was purposefully to upset her?"

'Point taken. Still, it couldn't hurt.'

"Hello, Harry. Are you talking to your cat?" Harry and Crookshanks both turned their heads rapidly at the sound of Harry's favourite Ravenclaw.

"Hello, Luna, what are you doing up here?"

'I'm not a bloody cat, Harry.'

"Testing a theory. Shouldn't you be in bed? Ginny will be quite worried about you."

"I don't think she thinks about me much anymore, Luna. It doesn't seem we're friends at the moment."

"That is a pity, though I doubt she would talk about you so much if she didn't like you."

"Wait… She talks about me? What does she say?" Harry demanded.

"Everything. Mostly about how stupid you are, but she misses you too."

"Hermione never mentioned that," Harry muttered.

"I doubt she would have. I don't think Ginny has been talking to many people right now."

"But she talks to you?"

"We're friends. She also doesn't think I talk to you."

Harry looked at her with confusion. "Then why are you?"

"Because Ginny deserves to be happy, and you make her. One moment…" Luna produced a small sized melon from beneath her robes and dropped it over the parapet. She stared at it as it hurtled back to earth and impacted the ground with a loud squish.

"What was that for?"

"I was testing whether gravity was still working outside the castle. Luckily for us it is."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Gravity is a tricky thing, Harry. You can never be too sure and it never hurts to do the right thing." Luna stared at him for a moment. "Well, go."

"Go what?"

"Do the right thing."

"Wait… are we talking about gravity or Ginny?"

"Sometimes they're the same thing, Harry. You are both drawn towards one another despite it all. That's very gravitational, to me, which is why I needed to check to make sure it was still working."

"Because Ginny and I aren't talking?"

"That and I think it's awfully fun to drop a melon off the Astronomy tower. Good luck tomorrow. Don't get roasted."

"You know about the dragons?"

"I heard you mention something earlier. I wouldn't be too worried," Luna shrugged.

"Yeah, but no one can help me."

"No one? I know I can't help, and neither can your friends, but what about anyone else? You spend most of your time with animals, don't you?"

'Hey! Who's she calling an animal?' Crookshanks demanded, standing irritably.

"Animals… not people… Luna, you're brilliant!" Harry hugged the small Ravenclaw who only smiled at him and produced an apple in her left hand, tossing that too over the edge of the tower.

"Still working?" Harry asked. Luna nodded rather serenely, walking off without another word.

Harry transformed and raced down the multiple flights of stairs to the ground floor and out onto the grounds. 'Slow down, mate! Where are we going?'

'To see if I can find some friends who want to play a game,' Harry replied.

oOo

"Harry, it's time for the First Task," McGonagall called. Harry looked up, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"Good luck, mate," called all of Harry's dorm mates.

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione whispered.

Harry looked about the hall until he finally made eye contact with Ginny, still sitting a few seats down. He grinned, winked and then turned on his heel without waiting for her response. Mollies love a devil-may-care attitude, Merlin had told him. Many of the other tables were calling out encouragement as he sauntered from lunch. Harry even heard the distinct sound of Bridget Waterson, Ron's little friend. "Badger's salute!" she called. On cue all twelve first year Hufflepuffs jumped on their benches and brandishing assorted cutlery yelled, "Kill-em Harry!"

"You have a plan, Harry?" McGonagall asked as they made their way to the grounds. Harry smirked.

"No need to get your whiskers in a knot, cousin. I've got this one taken care of. It's going to be a breeze."

'Hello, Harry!' Abbot called from the edge of the wood separating the champions' tent from the dragon enclosure.

'Good luck. We can't wait! Just remember to whistle,' Constance reminded him. Harry smiled and tipped an imaginary hat in return.

"Do be careful. There are fully qualified wizards on hand in case something goes wrong," McGonagall was warning. Harry merely grinned in response.

"I have to fight a dragon. What could go wrong? If you'll excuse me, cousin." Harry once again tipped his imaginary hat and walked briskly into the tent to prepare. Krum was lounging in the corner looking surly and generally in a foul mood, while Fleur was sitting on a stool looking paler than normal.

"Why so glum?" Harry asked. "It's a good day to die!" Both other champions looked at him rather askance, but Harry kept grinning.

'Did you come up with that one all on your own?'

"Merlin!" Harry cried. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

'The whole pride is here. Rex said I should come in here and see how you were doing. Everyone else is under the stands.'

"That's good. Is it scary?"

'It would be a lot more terrifying if we knew you had to kill the dragon, but there aren't even any dragons out there yet.'

"I wonder why not. Are the Unicorns there too?"

'A few are.'

"Who are you speaking wis?" Fleur asked impatiently. It seemed she'd grown tired of the subtle interaction between her fellow champion and the oversized housecat he was talking to.

"This is Merlin. My…er… friend."

'We're related,' Merlin protested.

"Yes, but she doesn't need to know that. Now hush."

'Can I stay here with you?'

"Only until the Task starts. Then you should go get a good perch." Harry continued to gossip with his brother, heedless of either the strange looks from the other champions or the hundreds of feet and excited voices outside the tent. It wasn't that he was nervous, exactly, but it was best not to think about the possibility of being roasted alive. Talking with Merlin about anything seemed to avoid those thoughts.

"Everyone here?" Ludo Bagman boomed as he entered the tent. "Excellent. Now, the crowd is assembled so I will be offering each of you a chance to pick a small model of the thing you are going to face. There are several different varieties. You first, Mr. Krum."

Krum dug his hand into the purple velvet bag and withdrew a model of a Sweedish Short-Snout dragon. It had the number one on it. "Excellent, now, Harry."

Harry dug his hand in and retrieved a model of the Hungarian Horntail, with a number three attached. He blew out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Sirius had been coaching him on the best known strengths of the different dragons that he might face. While Mr. Black certainly wasn't a dragon keeper like Charlie, he knew a thing or two about illegal-to-own creatures.

The Horntail was certainly the easiest. It had a tendency to rely on its vicious spiked tail and spit fire slightly less frequently than its more flammable counterparts. Tendency was the key word. Dragons didn't always read the same books that wizards did and sometimes forgot to adhere to the guidelines. After all, spikes could be dodged and mollies often found small scars attractive. Fire on the other hand was a danger to everyone, especially in the forest. Harry shook his head slightly at the foolishness of holding an event featuring fire-breathing lizards in a highly combustible area. It just wasn't the brightest idea devised by wizards.

"Excellent, and Miss Delacour that's a Chinese Fireball. Now, each dragon has the order in which you will go. Mr. Krum, you'll be up first. Your task, lady and gentlemen, is to collect the golden egg. I wish you the best!"

A minute passed and Harry found he could hear the match commentary with Bagman's booming voice. "Oh, very daring… Look at the nerve he's showing. Oh my, breaking the eggs will cost him, I suspect."

At the word 'eggs' Harry's ears perked up. Suddenly everything seemed to come into focus. _They're all nesting mothers_, Charlie had said. Krum had, for some unknown reason, broken some of the dragons eggs. "Merlin, get the Pride Mother and Father in here now! There isn't a moment to lose."

'What's going on, Harry?'

"I'll explain when they're here." Merlin nodded once and shot from the tent. He knew better than to question his brother when Harry used the 'father' tone.

"What are you playing at? Monsieur Potter?" Fleur asked.

Harry glared at her. "They're using real eggs, Miss Delacour."

"Of course zey are. Zis makes sense, no? From ze sounds of it, we must get past ze dragon and steal an egg."

"That's all fine and good, but what happens if we break one?"

"What does it matter? Zey are here for ze competition."

"Those dragons didn't ask to be here. It isn't like they just randomly wandered in and decided to start eating students. They were brought here, for our amusement, with their clutch. While you'll certainly not find me shedding a tear for a dead dragon, those eggs deserve to live. From the sounds of it, Krum broke a few, and that, Miss Delacour is murder. I'll not hold him accountable. He doesn't know any better, I'm sure. Just like the rest of the humans, no respect. I mean, if a dragon took a bunch of nursing mums and ate them and their litters like sardines from a can, don't you think there would a bit of an outcry?"

"Mr. Potter, you are ze oddest boy I have ever met. I am sure zat ze dragon 'andlers would not let anything bad 'appen to ze dragons."

"You can't let anything happen to the eggs. Please," Harry pleaded. While it was true that he had no special love for dragons, he couldn't stomach the idea of helpless hatchlings being killed before their time. Kneazles wouldn't even kill puppies should they run across them in the wild. A fully grown dog was a threat, puppies were not, and neither were those not-yet-hatched.

"Next is the Beauxbatons' champion, Fleur Delacour!" Bagman's voice boomed, signalling Fleur's turn.

"Zis is silly. Zey are not human and should not be thought of as such," Fleur scoffed.

As she began to leave the tent, Harry grabbed her arm roughly and stared straight into her eyes. "Most people would say the same about Veela. So what does that make you?"

A moment before Fleur was sure to hex him, Harry withdrew his offending appendage and watched her head through the tent flap, admitting Merlin and several other Kneazles as she left.

'What's the problem, Harry?' Father demanded.

"They're using real eggs."

'No, I mean we saw, but I thought they had to be fake,' Mum mewed anxiously.

"Hagrid said they were nesting mothers. Would you know if you had a litter of fake kittens?"

'Of course I would. That Krum boy, did something. He hit his dragon in the eyes with a spell. She trampled half her litter… That poor dear.'

"Well, I don't know about Delacour, but we're not going to let that happen. I have to get the golden egg, but I'm going to need your help to get the others out."

'McGonyowl said we weren't allowed to help,' Rex protested.

"Sod what McGonyowl said. We're talking life and death here. They think this is some kind of sport. It isn't."

'How are you going to get the golden egg?'

"I'm not. My Thestral friends are."

'Thestrals!' Father demanded. 'They're a myth.'

"I assure you, they aren't. They are very real and they have offered to help me."

'But McGonyowl…'

"Cousin said you weren't allowed to help, that's true, but she didn't read the rules. I checked. No people are allowed to help me. Thestrals aren't people. According to wizards, neither are you."

'What's the plan?'

Harry thought for a moment, trying to drown out the sounds of the crowd and commentary. "Get the Unicorns, we're all going to be needed for this. The Thestrals are going to steal the egg from one side. You are going to approach the dragon from the other side underneath the belly of the Unicorns and help them roll the rest of the eggs off to safety from the far side. I don't think the dragon is going to mess about with a Unicorn. I, in the meantime, will keep it distracted."

'How are you going to do that?' Merlin asked.

"Live bait."

'Bloody hell…' the entire Kneazle group mewed in unison.

"Everyone ok with this plan?"

'Not in the slightest, but I won't let those eggs be put in jeopardy,' Mum replied, fiercely. 'Alright, I'll go get the Unicorns. Mate, you go get the rest of the Pride. We're going to do this.'

The other Kneazles nodded and all except Merlin left to their appointed tasks.

'I hope you know what you're doing, Harry,' Merlin muttered.

"Trust me." Though the tone was confident, he was currently hoping he knew what he was doing, too.

"Bast, defender of our Lady Isis, protect we Kneazles…" Harry began to mutter.

"For our final champion, representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… Harry Potter!" Bagman's voice boomed out. The two brothers in fur locked eyes, they nodded silently at one another, and wordlessly strode from the tent.

'Harry, is it time? Are we to play the game today?' Abbot called.

"It's time! You can follow me in."

The Thestrals fell into line behind the Hogwarts champion. 'Are you going to tell us what game we're to play, then?' Constance asked.

'We do love surprises, Harry, but we must know the rules.'

Harry smiled a little. "Sure. The name of the game is 'steal the egg' and the rules are you have to steal the golden egg and give it to me without getting killed."

'Is that all, then?' Constance asked, mildly affronted. 'Who are we playing against?' As they walked through the gate, the dragon suddenly came into view.

"Her."

'Oh my! How exciting,' Constance cheered. 'This is a good game. It's a pity Fred is sick today. I do believe he would have loved this game.'

'He would have indeed, my dear,' Abbot agreed. 'He'll be in a strop all next week unless we can teach that little Acromantula on the end to dance properly. I do believe that will be the only thing to cheer him up. However, before we begin, we need something from you, Harry.'

"Oh?" Harry vaguely heard the roar of the crowd as he stood before the massive dragon. Apparently, Ludo had just started the timer, and Harry still hadn't made any sort of attempt towards the egg.

'Yes, if we're going to do this, we're going to have to be very sneaky about it.'

'Quite,' Constance agreed.

'So, if we're going to need to be sneaky we need sneaking music.'

"Sneaking music?" Harry asked.

'Yes, there must be very sneaky music to be sure we aren't seen. You also must do a sneaky dance.'

"You want me to… dance?" Harry hadn't planned for this at all. He'd planned to shout and run about while shooting inoffensive spells near enough to the dragon to keep her attention, but not so much that she risked moving and stepping on either one of his Pridemates or an egg.

'You must dance,' Constance confirmed. 'And it must be very sneaky.'

'And sing, you mustn't forget the singing,' Abbot reminded him.

"Ok…" Harry agreed as he rolled his sleeves up and started towards the dragon. "_Sonorus Minimus,"_ Harry muttered, pointing the wand at his own throat. Ron had given him that spell the last time Harry had managed detention. (He'd learned it from Hermione who wouldn't give it to Harry claiming he'd only use it for nefarious purposes). It made his voice just enough louder that it allowed him to have a marvellous conversation with Hagrid even while his head was buried inside a dead bicorn. Then Harry began to sing.

The song wasn't terribly sneaky, in Harry's opinion, as he danced around in ridiculous circles and shot off random colourful spells into the air, missing the dragon by just enough. It was a song they'd learned about in Muggle Studies, named _In The_ _Hall of the Mountain King_. It had, in fact, been written by a wizard who had narrowly managed to escape Gringotts after pilfering several goblin-made artefacts. It started out slow and moved faster and faster, but the Thestrals didn't seem to notice, as they pranced theatrically across the field.

Elsewhere the same task was being watched with a great deal of incredulity.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Charlie demanded.

"I've no idea, and watch your language, please, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall scolded. By pure coincidence, Charlie had found himself sitting next to his old head of house and they had managed a good conversation along with running critique of both previous champions. Technically, he was only on standby as the Ministry had provided their own security personnel for the actual event.

"What are the Unicorns doing? Bloody… they're stealing the eggs. Why in Merlin's name would they be stealing the eggs?"

"I have my theories," McGonagall confided, "but we're going to have to hope the young man is fit enough to tell us when he's finished." As the professor spoke, Harry narrowly pirouetted around another massive burst of flame and then ducked neatly beneath yet another attempt by the Horntail to impale the interloper with her pointy bits. "He orchestrated this whole thing," McGonagall suddenly exclaimed as the realisation hit her like a thunderbolt.

"Come again?" Charlie asked, wincing as he did so in sympathy with the grazing wound inflicted as Harry's speed wasn't quite fast enough to completely miss yet another swing of the tail.

"Mr. Potter is behind this, I'm sure of it. Though how he managed to wrangle three separate species into working together is beyond me."

"I still don't understand what his plan is, Professor," Charlie confessed.

"It's brilliant, as long as he manages to stay alive. The Thestrals have the golden egg, and the Kneazles along with help from the Unicorns are moving the rest of the dragon's clutch to safety. Just one more egg left."

"Of course! The dragon wouldn't feel threatened by the Unicorns' presence where a Kneazle might trigger a defensive reaction, but is that why he's not gone on to grab the egg? The Thestrals had their egg out a good three minutes ago. Hasn't anyone noticed?"

McGonagall chuckled a little. "I would guess, looking at the judges faces, they haven't. We've only noticed because watching the Hogwarts champion make a total fool of himself is only entertaining for so long. He's long since passed that mark and is now merely looking silly." As if to confirm her statement, Harry began loudly insulting the dragon's parentage, it's ability to breathe fire and her lack of readily apparent reproductive organs. The dragon seemed to take exception to this, which caused Harry to narrowly dodge another spat of flame.

"Oi! You're acting just like Malfoy's mum after a good shag!" Harry yelled, forgetting that his voice was still somewhat magically amplified.

"Oh my…" McGonagall groaned, placing her hand over her face. Charlie had heard about Malfoy both from his father and siblings, and so attempted to change the subject before he burst into laughter.

"You said he worked with the Thestrals, unicorns and Kneazles to pull this off? I know Hagrid trained the Thestrals, but the others are wild. How did he do it?"

"He has a way with the beasts, Hagrid tells me," McGonagall replied. "There, the last egg is out of the nest. You can see Thestrals, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yeah, a couple of my mates on the dragon preserve came to work still pissed from the night before. I wasn't on shift, but apparently the head handler didn't notice. I was in the hospital when they both kicked it." Charlie's voice was flat and tired sounding. Minerva immediately wished she hadn't said anything.

"I'm very sorry, Charlie, but… oh, Harry, watch out!" the old teacher cried, without even thinking, but it was too late.

On the field, Harry had finished his last pirouette as the final egg was unloaded from the nest and with great care the Pride had begun, under cover of Unicorn, to roll the eggs to a safe location until the dragon could be subdued safely. Harry smiled and walked sedately over to claim the golden egg which was resting a ways outside the nest, but just because he'd stopped jigging didn't mean that the dragon had stopped watching him.

Dragons are calculating, which is part of what makes them so deadly. They have a keen sense of the hunt and if one lets one's guard down for a moment they strike. Harry, as tired as he was from clogging his way across the field, failed to remember that piece of advice when he picked up the golden egg.

There was no flame, and no ear-rending screech, but Harry looked up just in time to avoid being impaled through the chest with the four foot long spikes. His shoulder, however, was cleanly pierced through and the momentum rocketed his smaller form halfway to the judges table.

'Harry!' Merlin shouted.

Even through the red haze, the boy hugged the golden egg like it was the only thing tethering him to this world.

"Go, get to… safe…" Harry croaked out and focused his best impersonation of Father on his brother. They had to get the eggs to safety or the whole exercise would have been for nothing. As the medical team rushed to his side, Harry moaned, "Don't let them hurt her… just doing good mum… stuff."

As the two medi-wizards levitated Harry and his egg on the stretcher, the voices of Abbot and Constance floated in from outside his vision. 'Oh dear, I do hope he is alright,' Constance worried.

'I do as well, but that's what you get for not being sneaky.'

'Indeed. That wasn't terribly sneaky at all. Next time, Harry, try to not get hit! That's much sneakier,' Constance advised.

"Bloody cheeky Thestrals," Harry muttered.

_AN: Here it is, task 1! I'm very sorry this took so long to upload, but my internet connection has been severed rather permanently and thus UPDATE MAN was required to find new sources of uploading. Hope everyone enjoys the slightly different take on the whole thing. Thanks to all for reading, and reviewing. _


	11. The Calm before the Ball

Ch 11

"Ughhh…" Harry moaned, opening his eyes. He'd been in hospital for 2 days already, dosed up with more potions than he knew what to do with, many of them causing him to sleep deeply and often. His friends hadn't been allowed to visit, so it was with some surprise that Harry looked up to see Hermione smiling at him.

"'Ello, Her-meow-ninny," Harry mumbled.

"Harry, it's so good to see you awake, finally. We've all been worried sick about you, but they wouldn't let us in until today," Hermione gushed. The relief in her voice was apparent.

"Erghhhh… Shoulder still hurts," Harry muttered.

"Of course it still hurts! You had a spike the size of my arm driven clean through it. What were you doing out there, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"There were all sorts of creatures, Unicorns and Kneazles, helping you. Why?"

"Had to get the eggs to safety. I heard Krum caused his dragon to trample some of hers. I couldn't risk that. I just got sloppy at the end. Should have been better. Did you see what my score was?"

"Yes. Dumbledore and Madame Maxime gave you fives. Crouch gave you a three. Karkaroff gave you a one! I couldn't believe it. Even if you were injured, you did it in a way no one else had even thought of."

"What did Bagman give me?"

"Ten. I don't know how he could, but maybe he thought well of you saving the other eggs. I really don't understand it. I mean, you're in last place, but you do have twenty-four points."

"Sex it all… I have to win the damn thing," Harry mumbled.

"Harry, I have to ask. Why are you trying so hard?" Harry shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze of his friend.

"Where's everyone else?" Harry asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Well, Madam Pomfrey said only three of us were allowed in here at a time. Neville convinced everyone else to visit later."

"Right, but you're only one. Where is Ron?"

"Arguing with Ginny."

"About what?" Harry demanded. What on earth could the siblings could be fighting about now.

"Ginny's on a bit of a tear about you nearly getting yourself killed, and Ron's saying she's blown it all out of proportion."

"I thought she didn't care," Harry scoffed.

"You are thick, you know that?" Harry merely scowled at the witch's accusation. "She cares more than she can say. She's never told me so, but I'm willing to bet this tournament scares her more than it does you."

"Then why would she say all those things?"

"Harry, she's trying to convince herself that she doesn't care. That way if you get hurt it isn't so painful."

"I dunno… she seemed awfully sure."

"She fainted, you know," Hermione whispered.

"She what?"

"Fainted. Only for a second, mind you, but when that dragon hooked you through the shoulder, she just went sort of limp."

"Is she hurt?"

"No, Michael Coroner caught her."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"A Ravenclaw from our year. Surely you remember him?"

"What's he look like? Do you know when he goes to meals? How many others does he travel with?" Harry growled.

Hermione merely scowled at him. "You're not going to kill him. He caught her, she woke with a start, blushed a little and said thank you. She hasn't said anything about it since!"

"If he fancies her, I'll kill him with my bare paws."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, I hate to break it to you, but a lot of boys are going to fancy Ginny. She's smart, feisty and I imagine going to be positively gorgeous. It's something you can't protect her from. As her friend, you should want her to find… You did it for her, didn't you?"

"What?" Harry demanded. The thought train seemed to have jumped tracks and Harry had no idea where it was headed now.

"You did it for her. You entered the competition for her." Harry said nothing, but the guilty look on his face was all that she needed. She wasn't the brightest witch of her generation for nothing.

"You idiot! You are a git, Harry Potter. I can't believe you'd be so inconsiderate."

"What? What the sex are you talking about?"

"Don't you know a thing about her? She doesn't want an idol, Harry. Ginny enjoys you as her friend, her companion. Someone she flew an enchanted car with. She doesn't want to be rescued and if you'd have thought for one second you'd have realized that she doesn't need a knight in shining armour. She wants a friend, Harry."

"Well, I'm bloody well tired of being her friend!" Harry exploded. "I want more than that. She's been my human since I was little more than a kitten, and against all my better judgement I really fancy her, Hermione."

"Then prove it."

"What the hell do you think I was trying to do? I did something no one else in this school did. I'm the fittest, strongest and most agile male. What more does she need? I helped rescue her, I've killed a bloody big snake and we fought Acromantula together… That's it, isn't it? She had to save me, so she doesn't fancy me?"

"Harry!" Hermione shouted. "I'm quite sure she does fancy you a little, or she wouldn't be so put out with you at the moment. Your problem is you're treating her like a prize to be won. She isn't a Kneazle, Harry. She won't just swoon for you because you kill something or beat up Malfoy again. Girls are interested in more than that."

"What do I have to do?"

"Start by apologizing."

"How? She won't even talk to me."

"That makes it trickier, but you could try something romantic to get her attention. A card, with a little gift. Roses or jelly slugs, maybe? I don't know what her favourite sweets are. It should be something that really tells her how sorry you are. No whisky, though."

"Why would you think I'd give her that?"

"I heard Ron and Dean talking about it a few days ago. I don't want them influencing you."

"So, a gift that's not whisky, a card and apologise. What then?"

"Up to you, but I'd tell her how you feel sooner rather than later."

"You're okay with this?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I suppose it all makes a certain kind of sense."

"I think Ron might try to kill me, if he finds out."

"I doubt he will," Hermione scoffed. "He's so busy wrapped up in that tart…"

"Jealous much?" Harry asked.

"Not in the slightest! I'm just tired of her hanging around all the time. She's hardly even his type."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And what, exactly, would be his type?"

"She's… I mean… I just thought he'd go for a girl with a bit of brain, that's all. He's plenty smart enough," Hermione sputtered.

"And you don't think she's brainy?" Harry countered. Before Hermione could answer though, the hospital doors burst open and in strode a very perturbed Ginny with Ron hobbling hot on her heels.

"You idiot!" Ginny screeched. "You could have gotten killed, do you know that? You're bloody lucky that dragon didn't have better aim."

"I thought you didn't care," Harry shot back.

"I don't," Ginny muttered far too quickly. "But," she continued, "you're supposed to be representing Hogwarts and you can't do that with a sexing great hole in your shoulder, now can you?" She leaned close with a predatory expression on her face. "If you ever do something like that again, Harry Potter, I will personally hunt you down and finish what the dragon started."

"I'm sorry you fainted," Harry whispered. His voice seemed unable to work properly right then. He'd forgotten how scary Ginny could be when she wanted.

"I didn't faint!" she scoffed.

"Leave him alone, Ginny. You can't just come in here shouting at him while he's still injured, no matter how scared you were," Hermione challenged.

"Why would I be scared?" Ginny demanded.

"Because you lo… oohfff!" Ron exhaled as his sister dug her elbow into his ribs.

"We were all scared, Ron," Hermione informed him. "You might have been, too, if you'd bothered to watch."

"Bloody hell! She kissed me, and rather unexpectedly. It wasn't like I went trying to snog the girl in the most public place I could think of, but we are dating. Couples snog, I don't understand why it bothers you so much," Ron huffed.

"You wouldn't," Ginny muttered.

"Stay out of it, Ginny."

"Hermione's my friend. I'll bloody well get into it if I want to!"

"You know, as refreshing as all this is, I am feeling kind of tired. Ginny, if you and Ron could dismember each other outside, I'd appreciate it."

"Get better then, mate," Ron offered and then glared at his sister as he limped out of the room. Ginny, was a bit more forceful.

"Remember, Potter, if you ever do that again, I'm going to eviscerate you with my own two paws. You've got two more to go, try not to get killed. It wouldn't look good for Gryffindor if our champion bit it. Ron!" she called after her retreating brother as she, too left the room.

"You know, I almost feel loved," Harry scoffed.

"She cares, Harry. Trust me."

"Almost as much as you care for her git of a brother?"

"Totally different. We're just friends."

"Ginny and I are just friends."

"But wouldn't you want to be more?" Hermione persisted.

"And you wouldn't?"

"We're not talking about me," Hermione replied.

"You're avoiding the question."

"Ron's a very good friend. I just don't want him to get hurt." Hermione turned and stared out the window. After a minute of silence, Harry spoke again.

"He watches you, you know. When you aren't looking."

"I've never seen him," Hermione grumped.

"He's very good at it."

"He's got Helga or Bratwurst, or whatever her name is, now," Hermione replied dismissively.

"He hasn't stopped. I think Bratwurst sees it too. Why do you think she keeps getting more possessive?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The snogging, the grinding, the biting."

"Biting? What biting?"

"He came in a week ago with purple marks all over his neck. I think Ron's molly is trying to mark him."

"I didn't see it!"

"Ron fixed it as soon as he realised. I don't think he wanted anyone else to see."

"And why are you telling me this? Is it supposed to make me feel better that my friend is in a clearly unhealthy relationship?"

"You're winning."

"Excuse me?" Hermione sat back a little on her stool.

"I said, you're winning. You're intimidating an older and, according to Seamus, absolutely gorgeous bird with the hugest tracks of land he's ever seen. She's scared of you, Hermione. So keep it up. You'll catch your tom eventually."

"I don't want to catch him, Harry. I just don't want her tongue jammed down his throat."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night."

oOo

"It's been two weeks!" Lavender complained. "I don't even fancy the bloke and it's getting on my nerves. I can't imagine what you're going through, Hermione."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lavender," Hermione stuttered.

"Come off it Hermione, we all know you fancy him and the fact that he's been nearly shagging her on the breakfast table the past week. They've been writhing around like a pair of eels. I heard that was why we lost twenty points last night," Parvati scoffed.

"Nothing with any Weasley is going well," Harry muttered.

"Quiet, class," Professor McGonagall announced as she swept into the room. Everyone fell silent. "Now, before we begin, I have an announcement. This year we will be having a special celebration over winter break. In two weeks there will be a Yule Ball, and as fourth years you will be able to attend. Only fourth years and above may attend, unless, of course, a third year has an older escort to the ball."

A sudden explosion of chatter besieged the Transfiguration classroom. Harry's head spun as he vaguely heard discussions of clothes, boys, girls, breasts and complete trepidation about dancing as the room swirled. Harry slammed his head onto his desk a bit more forcefully than he'd intended.

"What's wrong?" Hermione hissed.

"Bloody hell, I'm going to have to watch Ron fret, you mope and Seamus and Lavender ogle each other while they think no one else is looking. Dean may or may not try and sneak in a bottle of Ogden's Finest, and I can hardly imagine what everyone else is going to get up to. This is going to be a sexing disaster."

"I do not mope!"

"You've been in a snit, ever since Helene staked out her claim on your tom. I'd mope about something like that, too. Now that there is some sort of romantic type interest in the air, hormones are going to go into overdrive and it's going to disrupt everything. My only consolation is I'm not going."

"Harry, you have to go!" Hermione protested. "We might not to get to do something like this again."

"And who, pray tell, would I go with? From what I gather, it is rather customary to bring a date of some sort, is it not? As cute as she might be, more than a few eyebrows might get raised if I brought Rex."

"Why don't you ask Ginny?"

"She still isn't talking to me."

"Sure she is, I saw you two have a conversation just yesterday."

"No, that was her lecturing me and me trying to protest while making a mash out of the whole thing."

"Still haven't apologised, yet?"

"She hasn't given me an opening!"

"You have to be forceful. Have you listened to any of the advice I've given you?"

"You said get her jelly slugs or something, but I haven't the foggiest what her favourite sweet is."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It doesn't have to be sweets, you git. I just was saying something personal from the heart would do. That and a nice card or something."

"Something from the heart?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, something that only you could give her. You spent years with her from what you said. Can't you think of anything?"

Harry's mind whirled with sudden possibilities. A tumultuous storm of creativity suddenly parted to reveal the thing he'd been searching for the whole time. "I've got it!" Harry bellowed, leaping to the top of his desk triumphantly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I believe you do. Detention with me tomorrow night for disrupting class," McGonagall reprimanded. "Now please settle down and we can begin."

The lesson passed in a blur, and Harry managed to completely transform his log into a foot stool before anyone else.

"It just isn't fair," Hermione complained as they were leaving. "You've had years to practice this sort of thing."

"Don't be bitter, Hermione, it isn't Harry's fault he's positively meow-velous at this," Ron joked.

"Ha, ha," Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "Do the Germans find that sort of thing amusing, Ron?"

Even Harry was taken aback at the venom in Hermione's voice. "Hey, now. It was just a joke. Can't I joke with my friends?" Ron demanded.

"I don't know. Will your Fraulein let you?"

"She doesn't own me, Hermione," Ron retorted, brandishing his own glare.

"Doesn't she? So it was all your idea to go writhing around at breakfast like two eels in heat?"

"Eels don't come into heat, Hermione, and even if they did, what I do on the breakfast table is none of your…" Harry tuned out the bickering duo and patiently waited for the storm to subside. In doing so, however, he found himself listening to the knot of several Hufflepuffs who were passing. It seemed that Ron and Hermione's fights had become something of a general spectacle with their Gryffindor compatriots pausing to observe as well.

"Are they at it again?" Ernie McMillan asked.

"They've got to be shagging," Hannah Abbot confirmed.

"No way, have you seen the bird Weasley has been snogging? Why would he give that up to chase after Miss-Know-it-All?"

"You have no concept of relationships, Justin. Three Sickles they're snogging behind the German girl's back," Hannah offered.

"You're on," Ernie confirmed. "If you're serious about losing money, I'm sure there are some Ravenclaws who'd take you up on it, too."

Before Harry could discern the blonde girl's answer to the challenge a rather high-pitched and accented voice cut through the corridors. "Ron, zere you are! Komm, ve are going to be late!"

"If they don't slow down, she'll certainly be late," Susan Bones muttered.

"But, Schatze, I'm supposed to study a bit with Harry," Ron replied.

"Nein! You said you'd be vis me today. Now, komm. I do not vant us to be late."

Ron shot an apologetic look to Harry who merely shrugged. It wasn't as if the Kneazle-boy hadn't already made contingency plans.

"You'd better go, Ron, before Bratwurst has an aneurism," Hermione mocked.

"Don't call her that!" Ron demanded, his ears beginning to turn red. That was odd, Harry thought. Normally his friend's ears get red when he's upset, but the whole time Hermione and he were arguing they stayed their normal pasty white. Only now, when two mollies were involved and he was forced to defend one, did any anger surface.

"Why not? Aren't you going to stay with your friends? I thought you just got saying she didn't own you."

"If I thought you were my friend, I might stay, Hermione," Ron spat.

"Ronald, komm! Zis is in-excuse-eeble!" Helene squawked as she marched towards the bickering duo and grabbed her man forcefully by the arm. "Do not put him down because he is strong enough to attract a real voman," Helene sneered at her competition. A moment later she was dragging the unfortunate Ron down the corridor while alternately scolding him and promising what a good time they were going to have.

Hermione quickly wiped her eyes, trying to banish several unshed tears. The friendly hand of Seamus Finnegan patted her shoulder trying to offer what comfort a fourteen year-old boy could. "Don't feel bad, Hermione. It isn't your fault."

"What isn't?" Hermione sniffed, her attempt to hold back tears becoming less successful each second.

"That he ran off with her. With tits and an arse like that, she'd own me too. Try not to take it too hard."

For once, it seemed, Harry was able to observe a thorough cursing and not from the receiving end. Except perhaps for the now unconscious Irish boy, Harry thought it was likely informative for all involved.

oOo

Once again, Harry found himself painstakingly helping his Transfiguration professor restore bits of damaged parchment and books related to the subject. While it wasn't something particularly difficult, the need to sit still and focus was driving him crazy.

"Try and think about it like a hunting exercise," McGonagall interjected, rather suddenly, causing her pupil to jump.

"Pardon?"

"Sitting still, exercising your singular strand of self-control. You have to do the same thing when you're hunting, correct?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"If you treat everything as a learning experience then you'll never realise how much more you've learned out of simple everyday tasks."

"Oh… that makes sense," Harry admitted and resolved at once to try and put this nugget of wisdom to use.

"One more thing, Mr. Potter, since I was unable to speak with you about it after class yesterday. You will be attending the Yule Ball, and it is extremely traditional for the Champion to bring a date as they will begin the first dance."

Harry smiled a little, thinking of his plan. "I don't think that will be an issue, Professor. I plan on having the whole thing caught sometime tomorrow."

"I assume you mean that you will have found a suitable young lady?"

"I know just the one," Harry smiled.

"Not Rex."

"Why would you think that?" Harry asked, secretly relieved that he'd crossed the idea of any molly not on two legs firmly off the list.

"I should say, no Kneazles, but especially Rex."

"That's fine, Professor. I was wondering, though, if on that account I might be able to leave a little early tonight to find my lady a gift."

"A gift?" McGonagall asked, her eyes wide with astonishment. That used to be a Wizarding custom when she was little, but it had fallen by the wayside in all but the most traditional of families. Perhaps Sebastian had managed to be a suitable influence after all.

"Yeah, I suppose…"

"As we only have fifteen minutes left, Mr. Potter, I suppose you may go. Do try not to break too many rules."

Harry stood, stretched, and nodded. Then he quickly became furry and headed out to catch his gift. He had quite a bit of work to do if he wanted to make things right with Ginny by morning.

oOo

"Please tell me you didn't." Neville looked at Harry in the early light of the common room.

"Of course I did! Hermione said a gift from the heart that would mean something to her. No molly can resist breakfast in bed."

"Harry, Ginny doesn't eat raw meat."

"Of course not. I'm not an idiot."

"That's open for debate," Neville muttered.

"I fixed it with the house-elves last night. After she gets up, sees what I've given her, they'll pop in, take it and cook it specially. She can have a bit of a lie in and still have breakfast."

"Why a deer, though?"

"Not a whole deer. Even I know girls are a bit squeamish about their food looking back at them. Just the hind end. That's where all the really good meat is."

"You've had deer on occasion then?"

"No, but it's the same principle with rabbit."

"Harry, perhaps it's not my place to speak as I've never had a proper girlfriend, but somehow I don't think that half a deer hanging in front of her bed with the words 'breakfast is served madame' written on the flanks is the best way to win her over."

Harry scoffed. "This gets her from a human and Kneazle standpoint. How can she resist? I'm a fit tom with a considerate side, too. It's every molly's dream."

Further prognostication on Ginny's reaction was forestalled by an ear rending scream that pierced the morning calm. Both boys locked eyes. Neville's were filled with compassion, whilst Harry's held only fear.

"You sure that was a good idea?"

"It had to be one of her mates. Perhaps, I should have warned her first…" Harry trailed off.

"And ruined the surprise? How romantic would that have been?" Neville scoffed.

"Mate, I hate to break it to you, but I think in five seconds a very angry Ginny Weasley is coming down those stairs and going to hex you into oblivion."

"She wouldn't do that, we're friends."

"Friends or not, I don't think… SHITE!" Neville yelled as blue jet of magic barely missed his head. Another popped near his feet as the chubby boy dove behind the sofa.

"WHERE IS HE?" Ginny bellowed, her wand brandished and hair streaming in front of her face. Harry was mesmerized. Any human female could be pretty, he thought, she was gorgeous.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Ginny bellowed casting several more spells in the direction of her longtime pet.

"I can explain!" Harry called out from behind a piece of scorched furniture.

"I don't want to hear it, Paws." Ginny yelled back.

Harry ducked and rolled as his hiding place was blasted into oblivion.

"Just give me a chance, Sparkplug," Harry pleaded.

"I've put up with a lot this year, Harry, but that was too much. You'll not use some sick joke to try and impress your mystery girl."

"It was for you!" Harry called back.

Ginny paused for a moment and Harry, sensing the opportunity to finally explain himself, stood up, dusted himself off and gave the youngest Weasley a roguish grin.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You almost had me, but this isn't a joke. You shouldn't have stood up."

"Wha…?" Harry's mouth hung open and he was sure his face was far from dashing or debonair. The girl's logic made no sense, not that it had to (she was after all a girl and both Seamus and Ron had quietly informed him that the female of the species is subject to their own set of eccentricities).

"I can't believe you. This was just a joke? There wasn't really a girl you're trying to impress?"

"I… erm… well, yes there was," Harry admitted. A bright blue jet of light struck him squarely in the face, and as bat-shaped bogeys crawled out from his nose, Harry thought that perhaps no other tom had ever had quite so much trouble with one molly.

oOo

"I'm not going, Hermione and that's final," Harry grumped. "I don't even know how to dance. What molly would have me? I'm certainly not going with any old girl."

"Harry, it hasn't escaped my notice that you've been approached by several witches."

"They just didn't feel right," Harry mumbled.

"You mean they weren't Ginny."

"What's the difference?"

"Harry, no girl likes a bloke who's obsessive. You tried, and that's all you can do at this point until she cools down."

"How long will that take, do you reckon?"

"This summer if you're lucky."

"What?" Harry asked, shocked. He'd hoped she might relax over the upcoming Christmas break, but if Hermione was right, then he was in more trouble than he knew what to do with.

"Harry, I talked to her a little. She thinks that you did that on purpose to embarrass her."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Apparently, some of the other girls have been teasing her rather harshly about the fact that you two had a row. She hasn't made many friends in her year, because she was always off with you and now that you two aren't on speaking terms they've taken the opportunity to be little gits."

"And how would that make her disregard eleven years of friendship? I only did this for her!"

"And once she figures that out, Harry, she'll come around faster than you can say 'sexing-dog-cheese', but those bints aren't making it easy."

"Hermione, I'm shocked at your language," Harry smiled.

Hermione shrugged and turned a little red. "Well, you haven't been hearing what they've been saying. That bit that Skeeter wrote about your 'mystery woman' is driving her barmy. She's been trying to

figure out who you fancy and why you never told her about it. I think I've been hanging around you too much, as well."

"Why didn't she just ask?"

"That's not something a girl just asks her best friend, Harry."

"Well, why would I be trying to play a prank on her, then? None of this makes any sense," Harry complained.

"Of course it doesn't, but she's feeling a bit out of sorts and I think they've really gotten to her. Now it she's seeing things where there just aren't any."

"Are all girls like this?" Harry asked.

"Most, have you figured out your egg yet?"

Harry shook his head ruefully. "All it does is make that awful squealing noise. Do you have any ideas?"

"I'm sure there will be something in the library." Harry smiled ruefully.

"I doubt they have a book on 'squealing eggs and what to do about them'."

"Oh, will you just come with me? Viktor Krum keeps hanging about and staring at me rather deliberately. I'm starting to get a little unnerved."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Harry asked, seriously.

"Harry, your idea of talking to him would likely involve either a club or something pointy. I don't think you're allowed to attack another Champion even with an exceedingly good reason."

"I suppose. Do you really think they have a book out there? I was meaning to go check on the Unicorns today."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'll do that tonight, anyway. Professor Snape did tell us there was going to be a test on the last day of term. You might do well to study that."

"I suppose. Are you sure you don't want me to warn the git off?"

Hermione nodded. "You'll not always be around to protect me, Harry. Ron's already taken leave, so I suppose it's time I learned to stand on my own two paws… I mean feet! Blast, you're a bad influence, you know that, Harry?"

Harry merely shrugged as they strolled through the doors of the library and settled themselves into an area not readily visible to anyone incoming.

Losing himself in his work was more trouble than it seemed, as Ginny was constantly on his mind. What could he do to win her approval again? They'd been through so much; it seemed silly to fall out over something as trivial as this.

Somewhere along the line, a thought entered the Kneazle's stream of pondering. "Hermione," Harry began.

"Hmm?" Hermione responded.

"Go to the ball with me."

"What? You can't be serious!" Hermione demanded.

"Why not, I can't go without a date, and your tom is likely off having his tonsils removed rather forcefully through suction."

Hermione scowled. "That was not a mental image I wanted. Besides, it isn't like I actually fancy Ron, we're just friends. There will be other boys who'll ask."

"If you're just friends, then why are you so upset that he's taken?"

"Harry, we've been over this. Ron and I are friends. I don't want to see him hurt, that's all."

"So you're just friends?" Harry questioned.

"Mhmmm," Hermione confirmed.

"But you'd still say yes if he asked you to the ball then?"

"Well, of course. I mean I'm not sure how much fun it would it would be if I went with a stranger."

"Then why won't you go with me? Am I that repulsive?"

"Of course not! It's just that, well… it's different, Harry. I mean…"

"Ron isn't going to change his mind, Hermione," Harry admonished gently. In fact Harry had heard his friend obsessing about the state of his dress robes. Not something one would normally picture Ron ever doing.

"No, I suppose not…" Hermione mumbled. "Why do you want to go with me, anyway? I thought you weren't going."

Harry sighed the sigh of a Kneazle long suffering and promptly explained. "Well, I wasn't, but McGonagall caught me and explained exactly what might happen if I didn't show up. It didn't bear thinking about."

"Detention?"

"Worse, she was going to tell the house-elves to ban Kneazle treats from the kitchens."

"You've been getting treats from the kitchens?" Hermione sounded shocked. "I thought you weren't going to sneak down there anymore."

"Where else can I satisfy a treat craving at two in the morning?"

"You should bring your own."

"It isn't like they know it's me. They love the fact that 'familiars' are coming to visit, that's all."

Hermione glared at him. "If you want me to go with you, then I want something in return."

"Oh?"

"You have to swear to me by whatever thing Kneazles hold sacred that you'll stop abusing the house-elves."

"But it's not really…"

"Swear!" Hermione growled.

Harry sank another inch or two in his seat. "Fine, I swear."

Hermione brightened considerably at her friend's oath, binding as it was. "Then, yes, I'd be happy to go with you, Harry. As you said, it's just friends."

Harry nodded. "You're a lifesaver. I promise, if I catch the Ron and his molly alone, I'll even hex Miss Bratwurst for you." Hermione giggled.

"Thanks, I think. That's a real friend. Oh, Merlin, there he is again."

"Who?"

"Krum. He's staring holes in the two of us. I'm not at all sure I like it."

"Then let's blow this popsicle stand," Harry declared. Hermione stared at him with questioning eyes. "Something Sebastian said once," Harry shrugged. "He's got a million of those little sayings."

"Yes, let's, before he comes over and we have real problems," Hermione agreed.

"What do you mean real problems, Hermione?" Harry asked as they left the library.

"I don't want the two of you involved in some sort of scuffle, that's all. It wouldn't be good for anyone. He can't keep his eyes off me, and you can't keep your claws in. It's a recipe for disaster."

Harry shrugged. "I'm a bit protective of my friends, is that a crime?"

"No, but murder is."

It seemed to Harry that nothing could stay secret at Hogwarts for very long. As he was strolling down the corridor to Potions on the last day of term, Harry was accosted rather fiercely by three small Hufflepuffs known to Harry. There was Bridgette, the small girl whom Ron had helped earlier that year, and her two companions, Joe and Tim. All three had acquired a bit of a trouble- making reputation, and had declared that Harry was their inspiration and idol. This didn't endear their actions to anyone except possibly Ron.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing, mister?" the first asked.

"Bridgette, what on earth are you talking about? I've done quite a bit, so you'll have to be more specific."

"Taking another girl to the Ball when you should be taking your girlfriend!" Tim declared, looking every bit as fierce as his female counterpart.

"Ginny isn't my girlfriend," Harry growled. It galled him to admit it, but it seemed that she might never be and he needed to start accepting that.

"You two broke up!" Bridgette gasped. "When, why, how?"

"We were never together," Harry admitted. "We were just good friends, but we had a bit of a misunderstanding and now she won't have anything to do with me."

"Did you try apologizing?" Bridgette asked.

"Of course."

"How about presents, Daddy always gets Mam something nice when he's in trouble."

"Yes," Harry groaned. He really didn't want to be discussing his failed attempts at any of this.

"So why are you taking the bookworm?" Joe finally asked.

"Don't talk about Hermione that way!" Harry shouted. "She's a friend of mine. We're going as friends because the people we'd rather be going with are otherwise engaged."

"So Ron is still snogging that trollop and your Ginny is in a snit?" Bridgette clarified. Harry nodded mutely.

"We'll have a talk with her, then," Joe declared.

"Who?"

"Both of them," Bridgette muttered. The two other boys nodded their assent.

"Harry!" The trollop and angry Weasley were both forgotten as another of that family hobbled as quickly as he was able to Harry's side.

"Ron!" all three diminutive Hufflepuffs cried.

"How's it going little badgers?" Ron grinned.

"Not too badly, but Snape gave us a test yesterday."

"He does do that," Ron agreed.

"But it was the last day of Potions before the end of term!" Joe protested. "He's a git."

"That he is," Ron concurred. "But don't let him hear you say that or you'll find it much harder for yourselves, and no pranks."

"Why not?" Tim whinged.

"Trust me, you can't pull the wool over his eyes for long. Now, what are you three up to, eh?"

"Trying to find out why Harry Potter is taking a bushy-haired bookworm to the ball instead of his girlfriend," Joe supplied.

"What?" Ron squawked. "Who are you taking, Harry?"

"Well, Hermione and I are going." Harry involuntarily took a half step backwards. The look on Ron's face was murderous. "But you know, just as friends…"

"Just as friends? So you don't, you know, fancy her?"

"She's just a good friend, Ron." Harry assured him.

"Why do you care? You're still snogging that German tart," Bridgette pouted, clearly unhappy about the situation.

"She's not as bad as you think, Boomer. Just give her a bit of a chance, and where did you learn a word like tart?"

"You said just the other day that Pansy Parkinson was the slaggiest tart that ever shagged. You also said she was so much of a bint that she gave other trollops a bad name."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Just don't go repeating that where the professors can hear. They'll know it was me for sure, and you should really know better than to listen in to private conversations."

"Of course not," all three Hufflepuffs assured him. "But you were talking rather loudly," Bridgette pointed out.

"Now, if you're through interrogating my friend on his date choice, would you mind if I borrowed him for a bit? We have some bloke stuff to talk about."

All three little badgers nodded and Bridgette gave their mentor a final salute, before they turned, linked arms and began singing. "Bints, trollops, and tarts, oh my!"

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned. "They'll get pinched and then I'll get blamed."

"Very likely, now what did you need me for?" Harry asked.

"You're going with Hermione, as friends?" Ron reiterated.

"Yes. Why, were you going to ask her?"

"No, I have a date, already. Besides, it isn't like I fancy her, we're just friends."

"That's what she said too," Harry mused.

"She did?" Ron asked, and for some reason that Harry couldn't voice out loud, that seemed to deflate his friend like a fast leak in a small tire.

"Well, yeah, but that wasn't what you came to ask me about," Harry pressed.

"No, it wasn't, was it? Well, erm… the thing is, Harry… what I'd really like… bloody hell…"

"The thing you'd really like is?"

"Can I borrow twelve Galleons?"

"What do you need twelve Galleons for?"

"You see… I knew this was a mistake," Ron muttered and turned to leave, his whole face was flaming red.

Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulder and spun him a little roughly. "Of course you can, Ron, but for as long as I've known your family, you weren't ones who'd accept help like that easily. Especially not you. I'm just wondering what changed."

"It's for Helene," Ron confessed. "She's my date to the Yule Ball, but all I have are the robes Mum bought me and I'm afraid she'll be embarrassed. I mean her family has loads, and mine… well, you know. I just don't want to make her think I don't care. I found some nice ones by mail order and if I send off for them shortly, I can have them in time for the Ball."

Harry nodded, understandingly. "Ron, does she know what your dad does?"

"Not exactly. I mean, I told her he works for the Ministry, but she sort of thinks he runs department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"And where, pray tell, would she have gotten that idea?"

"She sort of assumed and I haven't really corrected her."

"So if you show up in last century's robes, she'll know you haven't been entirely truthful."

"Harry, please! Look at her, she's smart, funny, three years older, bloody fit, and for some reason has decided she likes me. I can't embarrass her, I just can't," Ron pleaded.

"Ron, money isn't a big deal. You don't have to pay me back, if you don't want to, but I just want you to know, I don't like her."

"No one seems to," Ron grumbled.

"That might tell you something. She isn't very tolerant of your little badger friends, she's been a real bitch to Hermione and she's been rather possessive of you the whole time. The only thing she hasn't done is try and shag your best mate."

"She's not that bad," Ron protested.

"She is, but that's beside the point. If you're happy, who am I to say otherwise? I just hope she's worth it."

"Oh, she is," Ron assured him.

"One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you call Bridgette 'Boomer'?

Ron chuckled. "She seems to have a real talent for making things explode. She's almost as bad as Neville in Potions, but whereas he simply makes it wrong, hers are a bit more combustible. Add in the mishaps she's told me about in Charms and Transfiguration, and she's a real boomer."

Harry chuckled. "I like it, it suits her. Can I give you the money after dinner? I don't have it on me."

"You're a bloody lifesaver," Ron cheered.

_AN: Here comes 11. We're on the fast track to the Yule Ball for 12. I know, many of you are going to lynch me here because of the way Ginny is acting and Harry keeps screwing up. I hope Hermione's explanation cleared up a little bit of Ginny's dilemma. Kneazle Ginny is a fair bit different than Canon Ginny as she isn't dealing with the emotional aftermath of Tom Riddle walking about in her head. What do you all think of Helene? Has Ron found his one true love, or are things about to get messy? Find out next time on Teenage Mutant Ninja Kneazles! As a side note, I would like to give a shout out to Silverbirch and the story 'One of Nine' for the use of McGonyowll. I encourage anyone who hasn't read it to do so._


	12. Balls and Fury

Ch 12

"Sex me sideways," Harry whistled. "You're going to knock Ron out for sure."

"I'm not trying to knock him out, Harry. Sometimes a girl just likes to look nice, and as we're not likely to have another ball while we're in school, perhaps it isn't such a crime that I want to dress up for this one," Hermione replied, self-consciously smoothing the front of her robes down.

Harry smiled as he offered her his arm. "If it's any consolation, I don't think he'll be able to take his eyes off you."

"I'm more worried about you," Hermione confessed.

"Why in Isis' name would you be worried about me? I don't have a slag doing her best impression of a Dementor on a boy I fancy."

"First off, Harry, we're just friends. I don't fancy him. Secondly, you may have more of a problem than you think. Ginny's going to be there tonight."

"What? With whom?" Harry demanded.

"Look, she made me promise not to tell you, but I can't just let her drop it on you like that. Michael Corner asked her, and she jumped at the chance."

The rumble from Harry's chest began to emanate like a diesel motor. "So he thinks he can put his hands on her once and she's his molly now?"

"Harry," Hermione snapped, coming to a sudden halt as she grabbed her partner's arm. "You have to promise me that you aren't going to cause trouble tonight. If there is one thing that could ruin your friendship right now it would be you marching over there and punching her date in the face. Let her dance, let her laugh and let her have a good time. Most of all, let her realise how completely inadequate he is when compared to you. Trust me, I think she's been a little in love with you since you started writing to her our first year. She'll come around, just give her a little space."

"And I'm just supposed to let another tom put his paws all over my molly?" Harry demanded.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Harry. She isn't your molly. She's your human, but you two haven't gone out and until that happens she's just a good friend. You wouldn't punch another boy for taking me, would you?"

"Not unless it was that Krum blighter."

"And why is that?"

"Because he's a git!"

"Not Krum. Why wouldn't you punch another boy for taking me?"

"Because I don't fancy you."

"Of course not, so just for tonight, try not to fancy Ginny either and let things take their course. I promise something good will come out of it."

"Alright," Harry agreed. "Now, shall we?"

As they strolled into the Great Hall, it seemed that Harry's opinion of Hermione's new look was shared. Her hair had been managed into a sleek braid twisted to the back of her head and she seemed to glow a little. Even Malfoy couldn't find a single insult to throw, though the pair didn't linger long to give him opportunity.

"Champions, over here, please!" McGonagall directed and the Hogwarts' duo fell into line behind Fleur and her partner, Roger Davies. Roger looked so completely stunned by his good fortune, Harry made a mental bet that he'd trip over something if he didn't get his eyes forward once again. Viktor Krum was escorting a very pretty girl from his own school, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, she was Helene's best friend, Gretel. Ron had mentioned her once or twice in passing, but he was equally sure that his gangly friend didn't know who she was taking to the Yule ball, or Ron would have been far more interested in getting to know her.

The champions walked towards the large round table at the front of the hall. The remainder of the hall had been redecorated with small lantern lit round tables, each seating a dozen, replacing the traditional house tables.

"This is too much, Harry," Hermione whispered as they walked forward. Harry smiled and squeezed her hand gently.

"Don't worry, I've done this a thousand times."

"When?" Hermione sounded shocked.

"Well… not this, exactly, but we of the feline persuasion were born to grace. I will not embarrass you, and we'll show Ron what he was missing, eh?"

"I haven't the foggiest what you are talking about."

"Your eyes have been on her since we stepped in the door. Every time she sees you staring like that, her smile gets a little bigger. I've noticed too. Now, front and centre, miss. Wouldn't want the tart to think you're jealous would you?"

"I've really no idea what on earth you're on about," Hermione sniffed.

"That's good, because what she doesn't realize is that her date's mouth hasn't closed in the past two minutes and it hasn't been because of her."

"But she looks incredible," Hermione murmured.

"Is that concern I hear?"

"Not at all, I just couldn't help but notice… Ron's dress robes. I mean where did he get those? On the train he was complaining about those outdated lacy things he had."

"Oh, I'm sure he had his sources," Harry remarked.

As they approached the table, Harry couldn't help noticing the presence of Percy Weasley where Barty Crouch ought to have been.

"One bore for another," Harry mumbled to himself and determinedly did not look towards the area he instinctively knew Ginny to be sitting. He'd made a promise and in all reality punching the Corner git wouldn't actually do him any good, despite how good it would make him feel.

Interestingly enough, empty gold plates were at each of the settings, but with none of the room for the larger traditional serving platters. Dumbledore neatly solved this quandary when he looked down at his plate and said, "Pork Chops," rather forcefully. A plate of pork chops appeared. In turn the students took their cue, with Ginny ordering a rare steak (not that he noticed, of course).

"Harry, aren't you going to eat?" Hermione asked. Her own plate had been filled with a braised lamb shank and asparagus.

"We can order anything?" Harry asked.

"Well, I suppose so. I mean, I don't like the work this is making for the house-elves, but I don't suppose there is anything to do about it. I mean to talk to the Headmaster when this is over. Perhaps in the future we can avoid…"

Hermione's rant was suddenly cut off when Harry, his culinary inspiration newly found, nearly shouted at his plate, "Tinned tuna!" In an instant fifteen tins of pre-opened tuna appeared on his plate, stacked in a pyramidal fashion.

"Please tell me you're joking, Harry," Hermione muttered weakly.

"Have you ever had tinned tuna?" Harry challenged? "I've never asked for it before because we could never get just what we wanted, but this, Hermione, is what Bast herself eats before doing battle with Anubis. It is food fit for God and Kneazle." With no further explanation, Harry picked up his fork and his first tin and practically inhaled the fishy goodness. He felt himself nearly explode with delight.

By the twelfth tin, Harry felt himself slow down enough to survey the surrounding scene. Ron was talking, somewhat distractedly as he kept sneaking glances at the front table, with Helene. Lavender and Seamus were bickering as it seemed that Seamus had attempted to stare down her dress more than once. Dean and Parvati were chatting amicably and Harry glowered ever so briefly when Corner said something Harry couldn't quite make out which caused Ginny to burst into a fit of giggles. Neville and a Ravenclaw, Harry was reasonably sure was in Ginny's year, were talking. Rather, it appeared she was doing her best to prove how grown up she was, and Neville was trying not to let his discomfort show.

The stage, too, had been transformed and a variety of musical instruments had been placed out. These included bagpipes, a cello, and something that vaguely resembled a guitar but with pointy barbs every few inches along the strings. The Weird Sisters, themselves, climbed to the stage amid wild applause.

As the lanterns on the tables went out, Harry stood, pulling Hermione with him. "I believe this is our cue."

"Alright, Harry, now I know how to dance a little," Hermione whispered, "so just follow my lead." Harry smirked.

"I hope you know how to dance a little better than you're letting on. Otherwise all my practice wouldn't mean anything. Besides, isn't it the tom's place to lead and the molly follows?"

"What do you mean practice?" Hermione stuttered out.

If possible, Harry's grin got even wider as the music started. It was a slow, mournful tune, but Harry found the rhythm easily enough.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Hermione hissed, as they whirled slowly around the floor. Harry noticed the gobsmacked expressions of several of his year mates included Dean and Seamus.

"Here and there. Actually, Professor Flitwick taught me."

"I didn't realise he was a dance instructor."

"He isn't, he's actually a duelling champion, but the two have so much in common. Fleet feet, attentive eyes and a little rhythm are all it takes. Fighting is the same way. Read your opponent, don't get caught flat footed and some timing. I had all the skills; I just had to change it around."

"But then if Professor Flitwick isn't much for dancing, how did he teach you?" Hermione demanded, perhaps a little louder than she meant to.

"Books and cleverness, Her-meow-meow. He knew a little and did some fancy charm work to help me learn the basics. I read some, too. All I needed was a dance partner."

"Who helped you with that? Lavender and Parvati never said anything."

"Nor would they, I asked Bridgette."

"Ron's little hanger on?"

"The very same, though I wouldn't call her a hanger on anymore. She's quite determined that the world work out to the way she wants it to. When I told her I wanted to learn to dance to make Ginny jealous, she was able to overcome her phobia of boys to help a bloke out."

"She's at least a foot shorter than you," Hermione pointed out.

"That's were more charm work came in. A little levitation and one or two others and she was at my height."

"You really did do the thing right, didn't you?" Hermione mumbled, as she was swept around in another circle. The music rather abruptly died and changed to a fast reel.

"You ready for this?" Harry challenged. A moment later, Hermione was quite sure she wasn't, but she was having too much fun to care.

"Can we sit down for a minute, Harry? I'm exhausted."

"We've only been dancing for what, twenty minutes?"

"Harry, your idea of dancing is a bit more exuberant than I'd anticipated," Hermione scoffed.

"Fair enough, you want something to drink?"

"I think I'm ok for now… ughhh! Can we just go outside for a bit?" Hermione growled. As she stormed off, Harry looked around frantically for what caused her reaction. It wasn't hard to find. Helene seemed to be grinding herself all over a very dazed Ron. Harry was quite sure his friend had no idea what to do about the situation.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered and then followed his date out the door into the Entrance Hall.

With speed, it seemed she disappeared, though, as it took Harry several minutes to find his wayward date. The grounds had been transformed with large bushes and stone statues. Hermione had fled to the safety of their shadows and was crouched underneath an outcropping of one of the bushes that seemed to have grown there specifically for that purpose. Curled in her lap was none other than Mopar. Next to her was his litter-sister, Cerco, curled protectively against the normally bushy-haired girl's leg.

'She's been crying,' Mopar announced.

'She really is a lovely human. Been petting us the whole time.'

Harry merely smiled.

"What are they saying, Harry?" Hermione asked, not looking up.

"Just how lovely you are. What are you doing out here? I thought you wanted a breather, not to do a bunk."

"It just got to be a bit much, you know? All that pressure. The way that girl was staring at me. I just had to get out of there for a bit. I hope you don't mind."

"Hermione, as one of my dearest friends, I aim to please. If you wanted to steal the Quidditch brooms and paint the castle with 'Helene's a tart' in ten foot high letters, I'd be with you."

"I might do that, if I could fly," Hermione smiled.

'Harry, someone's coming!' Cerco mewed.

"Get back into the shadows," Harry hissed. Hermione moved with haste and they just missed being spotted by a furious-looking Professor Snape, his robes billowing, bat-like as ever.

"We need to get back inside," Hermione whispered. Harry nodded and they bid both Kneazles happy hunting.

It seemed nothing had changed when they finally snuck back inside. The music was fast and loud as ever, and veritable sea of hormones was raging so loudly it nearly made Harry gag. One person, it seemed had noticed their return and it was to his detriment.

"Vas ist los vis you?" Harry could hear the high pitched voice of Ron's girlfriend over the wail of the band.

"I just vant to go somvere… alone, and vaht do you say? Nein! Are you afraid? Vaht is die problem?" Helene demanded.

Harry edged a little closer, shamelessly eavesdropping. If his friend needed a quick out, it was his honour bound duty to provide one, according to Seamus. Apparently, the male code of camaraderie extended beyond Kneazles.

"Nothing, I just like dancing," Ron stammered.

"Pah! I haf never met a mann who did not like vaht I vould do, unless you aren't one. Is that it, Ronald? Are you…"

"That's quite enough! Ron is twice the man you'll ever deserve. If he doesn't want to go off and shag you in some rosebushes like a common tart, then I think that makes him more a man, not less. Perhaps you should pick your boys and leave the gentlemen for real women," Hermione shouted.

Harry realised that in his own shameless attempt to provide potential moral support to his friend he'd lost track of, and a moderating influence over, his rather agitated date.

"Hermione, please, not here," Ron begged.

"So yoo vould be fine vis her saying zese sings, elsevhere?" Helene demanded.

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then vaht did you meen Ron? You can't have it both vays," Helene challenged.

As the couple continued their very public row, Harry sidled next to a suddenly silent Hermione, "You've made your point, Hermione. Let's let them have their row. Come on, we need to make like a tree and get out of here," he whispered.

Hermione, shaken from her unusual silence gave her friend an askance look. "That didn't even make any sense."

"Let's go," Harry urged and began dragging her away from the ongoing argument, heedless of the odd looks he was receiving. "You don't need to be a part of this, come on!"

"Stop right zere!" another voice called out, causing the fleeing duo to freeze in their tracks. "Do not think you can insult my friend and then valk avay! I vill not let this happen," the witch continued.

Both turned and faced a blonde willowy witch with piercing blue eyes, Gretel had apparently lost Viktor in the crowd somewhere and had decided to distract herself with attacking Hermione. "Who do you sink you are, hmm?" This witch's grasp of his second language was far superior to her friend's, Harry noted. "You attack Helene for no reason, and wis no provocation. She is too nice to say zese things to you, but I am not constrained by man."

"You're quite right," Hermione began, her voice as stiff and formal as Harry had ever heard it. "I do apologise for my behaviour. This was neither the time nor the place…"

The opposing girl cut her off, "Sorry is not good enough. I haff seen vitches like you before. You sink because you are brains the vorld must go vith your plan? You think to interfere vith another voman's life? Vaht gives you the right? If you vish to challenge Helene to duel, do so, but I can see you vill not. She is tvice the voman you vill ever be. She is _Smaragdblut_ and you are _Schlammblut_. I know your blood, Grainger, you are not fit to lick her schues. She has asked me to not interfere, hoping you vould let them be, but I can stand next to no longer! Vaht do you vant vith him?"

"He's my friend and I won't see him hurt. I don't see how this is any of your business, really, but she was acting horribly towards him. What if he doesn't want to go off into the bushes? It's nice to see chivalry hasn't died yet," Hermione shot back, finally finding her voice.

"Helene is a kind and generous girl, I vould not expect your kind to understand vaht it is like to fall in love."

"My kind? What on earth do you mean?" Hermione demanded. Based on the looks of the bystanders it seemed that perhaps Hermione was the only one who was unaware where this thing was headed. Even Ron, thick as he sometimes was, wore a wary expression.

"You know exactly vaht I mean. You have no magical blood, you are new to our vorld. Luckily Durmstrang does not admit your kind."

"And what does my birth have to do with anything? Love is a universal and unifying emotion. My parentage has nothing to do with my capability for love."

"Untermenschen do not fall in love, they rut like a deer."

"Now wait a minute, what's an Untermensch, anyway?"

"GET OFF! She's your friend and you are just going to let her talk like that?" Ron exploded, drawing the attention of the crowd.

Helene whispered a few more words that even Harry had a hard time catching, but it seemed Ron was having none of it. "No, I know what that means! If you aren't going to make her apologise, then I will." Storming away from his girlfriend, Ron stood nose to nose with the smaller witch. "Apologise, Gretel," Ron demanded.

"Vhy should I? I said nothing that wasn't true."

"Apologise," Ron growled.

"Do not think you own me Ron Veesley. Ve are not going out, and I don't think I vant to lay the pipe vith you either. It is you who should apologise to my friend for embarrassing her and ruining a good night of dancing. I am saving you. This little Schlammblut vas causing nothing but problems."

"I said…" Ron began, his hands balling into fists, but the smaller witch pulled her wand.

"I said no."

Ron turned to look at his girlfriend, who appeared torn between loyalties, and obviously unwilling to make a decision. "You're ok with this then? The way she is? You're friends with these kinds of people, or is it just her?"

"I don't know vaht you're talking about," Helene stammered.

"So it's like that?" Ron turned back to the witch with the wand in his face. "You don't scare me. There's nothing you can do to me that hasn't been done," He muttered and then very deliberately spit just to the right of her shoe, barely missing the hem of her robe. "You can keep her. We're through," Ron announced.

"What's going on here?" Flitwick demanded, breaking through the back of the crowd. The spell was broken and the onlookers quickly turned away and pretended as though they hadn't just been watching the whole scene unfold with rapt attention.

"Nothing, Professor," Ron said, loudly. "If I may be excused, I'm not feeling well. Must be something in the air." Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry, Hermione and a speechless Helene staring after him.

"Go after him, Harry," Hermione urged.

"What if he just wants to be alone?" Harry questioned.

"He doesn't need to be alone right now. Go, I'll make sure Corner doesn't try anything untoward," Hermione assured him.

Harry startled at the suggestion, having momentarily forgotten about his molly nuzzling the fur of another tom. "Be sure he doesn't," Harry growled and then he too took off in hot pursuit of his wayward friend.

oOo

"You're not an easy bloke to find," Harry stated as he sat next to Ron on the wall of the castle. Their legs were dangling dangerously over the edge.

"You seemed to manage in record time," Ron muttered.

"Animal instinct and all that. Plus, you seem to favour the Astronomy Tower when you have heavy thinking to do."

Ron chuckled mirthlessly. "Heavy thinking, that's hardly me. If I'd done a bit more thinking with my head and less with my willy, I don't think I'd be in this mess."

"I don't really understand," Harry confessed. "Sure, the little bint wasn't being particularly nice to Hermione, but I still don't understand why you exploded like that."

"My girlfriend's best friend is practically a Death Eater, Harry!" Ron screamed, his frustration and rage boiling over. "I can't believe I didn't see it. I mean what kind of person is friends with someone who'd say something like that?"

"Something like what, Ron? She was babbling in a language I couldn't understand."

"She called Hermione… an 'Untermensch', do you have any idea what that means?"

"Not the foggiest, but based on your reaction it couldn't have been good."

"It's the foulest term I can think of. Somehow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named missed coming up with something even close. Sure we have some nasty terms for Muggleborn, but this takes it to a whole new level. It's… I can't hardly describe it, Harry. It's a term that means you're so completely beneath me that you're not even human. I could kill you and it wouldn't matter because you're not a person. It's bloody awful! Some of Grindelwald's supporters perpetuated that during the war, apparently. There was a big banner that hung in the lower dungeons of Nurmengard prison, said something like 'Magic makes us human, do not fear the Untermensch'."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Because Uncle S has it."

"He fought against Grindelwald?"

"No, but Aunt Mary's dad, great uncle Robert, did. He brought it back with him. Gave it to Uncle S before he died."

"How'd you manage to find it?"

"Was looking upstairs for some Kneazle tonic for Merlin that Auntie told me she'd left up there. Found it in an old trunk. Bloody hell!" Ron yelled again, pounding his fist against the stone rampart ineffectually. "You know what the worst part is? I didn't think it could happen. I mean, why should they be any different?"

"Now you've lost me," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, that stupid bint shocked me more than anything. Uncle S told me they pretty much stomped that sort of thinking off the continent once Grindelwald was taken care of. They were just afraid, and once Dumbledore sorted him, the rest of the magical population took back their countries. They don't hold with that sort of thinking now, I heard. "

"Bit naïve, don't you think? I mean even we have Malfoy." Harry pointed out.

"I suppose, yeah, I mean I knew Durmstrang leaned a bit more toward the darker side, and I knew they didn't admit Muggleborns, but I didn't think they held with that."

"They don't admit Muggleborn students?" Harry asked, shocked.

"No. There is some school set up in Italy where they all go instead. It's fairly new, founded in fifteen-hundred or something."

"It's not like they're all little blood-purists in training, you know," Harry pointed out.

"No, they aren't, and that's what makes it so hard. It would be like finding out my best mate is secretly best mates with Draco Malfoy, though. Not an easy thing to digest."

Harry nodded and they sat in silence for several minutes before Harry spoke again. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"Not much point ,is there? I made a bloody fool out of myself down there. Even if she wasn't friends with that horrible witch, I don't think she'd have me now."

"They aren't the same, you know."

"Harry, why are you so dead set on getting me to talk to Helene? I thought you didn't like her."

"I don't," Harry admitted, "and I don't think she was good for you, but I value your friendship more than I dislike her, and if you throw it away without even trying to talk to her I think you'll regret it. They aren't the same person. They're just friends."

"Dad always said you could tell a lot about a person by the type of friends they kept. If they were passing acquaintances I might let it go, but Gretel is Helene's best friend, Harry. Which means that even if my girlfriend doesn't believe in all that pure-blood rubbish, she's not strong enough to resist it, and I'm a Weasley," Ron concluded.

"What's that to do with it?"

Ron puffed his chest out a little, "Weasleys are blood-traitors, Harry, always have been. Cedrella Black was blasted off her family tree for marrying a Weasley. We've been fighting on the 'wrong' side of the fight for ten generations. If she can't stand up to her friend and stomp that sort of shite out, then she doesn't have what it takes to become a Weasley."

Harry raised both eyebrows. "Didn't realise you were thinking about that sort of thing."

"Mum told me 'never take a date who wouldn't make a good mate'. Seemed logical enough."

"And you listened?"

Ron shrugged. "It's been known to happen."

A smile blossomed across Harry's face. "You'll be alright. You want to go get something to eat?"

"You're hungry?" Ron asked.

"A bit, you?"

"Famished."

"We can't tell Hermione, she made me promise to stop taking advantage of the house-elves."

"Then we won't take advantage of them. We'll simply… be helping them hone their already considerable skill."

"That's true," Harry agreed, "wouldn't want them to forget how to do their jobs properly, now would we?"

"Indeed not. If they mess up our order all we'll be is a bit disappointed. If they mess up the Headmaster's he could sack them. Best we help them prepare then, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would indeed," Harry agreed.

It was well past midnight by the time both boys returned to Gryffindor tower, sated and stuffed from their time helping the house-elves hone their skills for the morning meal. The fire was low and not a soul was stirring as they came in.

"Bloody hell, that was fun," Ron chuckled. "Nearly made me forget what I was trying to forget."

"It's an old Kneazle remedy. Food cures most things."

"Thanks for being a good mate, Harry, and don't worry about Ginny and Corner, I'll sort them."

"What about Ginny?" Harry asked his eyes growing slightly wider.

"Well, erm… I mean, I thought you saw…" Ron stammered.

"What did I see, Ron?"

"Nothing. It was nothing, just a bit of fun," Ron offered.

"You're not a very good liar, Ron," Harry growled.

"Bloody hell, I thought you saw them snogging," Ron replied sheepishly.

"THEY WHAT!" Harry bellowed, the world beginning to swim red.

"Well, I don't know about snogging. It was just a bit of a kiss, really. Nothing to get worked up over. I'm sure it doesn't mean a thing."

"I'm going to kill him."

"Take a bath with your egg!" Ron exclaimed, rather abruptly.

"What?" Harry's head popped up at the sudden change in topic.

"Your egg, take a bath with it. Least that's what Krum did. Might help."

"Who told you that?"

"Gretel and a couple of her friends fancy the bloke and one time when he went to go take a bath they tried to sneak in and see him. They were jabbering about how he took the egg. That and the size of his…"

"Ron, I don't really want to know. So, things to do tomorrow: bathe with the egg, poop in this Gretel's shoes and kill Michael Corner," Harry listed off, one by one.

"I really wouldn't worry about Corner," Ron replied. "I told you, I'll sort him."

"You can certainly help me dig the hole."

"What hole?"

"The one for the body." Harry's grin was positively feral.

_AN: Here's 12! Thank you all for your patience and I believe this solves the Ron/Other woman crisis nicely. Unfortunately Ginny is snogging other blokes? Oh my! Never fear, chapter 13 will be on it's way soon. Some translations/ real history: Schlammblut = Mud blood, Smaragdblut= Precious blood. Something like an emerald vs. the common mud. Untermenschen = literally translated it means lowlife, but that doesn't really do it justice. Ron's explanation was essentially correct, except instead of Grindelwald it was Hitler. From talking with my awesome German consultant Kogut I've been informed it isn't really in use today, but I thought it might still have use in the Wizarding world. JK Rowling has hinted that Grindelwald and WW2 have a close connection. A hearty thanks to Kogut for proofing all my German and helping this non-native speaker clear a few things up!_

_Finally I want to point out that none of this is meant to disparage the Germanic countries today. I took 4 years of German which is why the characters are German here. If I'd taken French they'd be from Beauxbatons. And no, Helene isn't evil, she just doesn't have much fortitude._


	13. Siege Warfare

Ch 13

There is in every adolescent boy's life the awkward moment when the girl you fancy snogs another bloke. Some boys take this in stride, vowing to double their efforts to win the fair maiden. Others take to drink of dubious legality and still others, the rare few who have either very good friends or a devious mind take to shenanigans. Our Kneazle hero was of the third variety.

"You sure this is going to work?" Bridgette asked sceptically, as she looked at a large wooden structure that just had the final touches transfigured into place.

"Look, either you trust me or not. I did it as best I could based on the drawing Tim gave me and you didn't have any complaints. I'm not even entirely sure what it's supposed to do," Harry sighed.

"Well… it looks right. I dunno, what do you think, Joe?"

Joe gave their large project a once over and then shrugged, continuing to stuff his mouth full of a Cornish pasty he'd nicked from the kitchens in the wee hours of the morning.

"I suppose you didn't do too badly then, Harry. Now, when can we try it out?" Bridgette concluded.

"Not now, mates. Maybe later, if I don't hurry I'm going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures."

"Does term start today?" Tim asked.

"I suppose it must, if Harry isn't even willing to stick around and help us test it."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I skive off enough classes that I don't want to be in, I really ought to be in ones I care about."

"Is Ron talking with the bookworm, yet?" Tim asked.

"They've chatted a bit. She's still a bit cool about his recent romance and he's not been too good since they broke up."

"Saw the bint trying to sneak in the castle the other night. Good thing we chased her off. She really was a bitch," Bridgette concluded self-righteously.

"Do I want to know?"

"Dungbombs and a big stick," Joe finally offered, his breakfast having been finished. "Can you come help us test this thing out tonight?"

"I suppose so. As long as it'll get me out of the tower."

"You really should just tell her how you feel, you know," Tim advised.

"And get an earful? Ginny's made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me and she'd much rather go snog that Corner bloke. I'm not about to get on the wrong end of her claws," Harry protested.

"Have you talked with her since the ball?" Bridgette demanded.

"I'm not having this conversation with you lot. I'll see you tonight," Harry rebuffed and without another word strode briskly from the secluded clearing and towards the gathering of students near Hagrid's hut.

Arriving at the back of the rest of the class, Harry quickly moved towards Ron. The usual form of Hagrid was absent and in his place stood an elderly, grey-haired witch. Her prominent chin made her rather foreboding despite her age.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry whispered.

"She said he was indisposed, today we've got Professor Grubbly-Plank," Ron whispered back.

Something seemed a bit off, though Harry couldn't tell what. As they trudged through the snow the grins on many of the Slytherin students were a bit too pronounced for the overcast morning whose temperature was dropping faster than a wrecked Jaguar's resale value.

"Hasta!" Harry cried as a Unicorn came into their view. She was tethered to a tree and pawing the ground in a very nervous fashion.

"Boys keep back!" Grubbly-Plank barked. "They prefer a woman's touch."

"Oh the hell they do," Harry muttered. "I think they prefer to not be tied to sexing trees. Ponil is going to go out of his bloody mind if he sees this.

"What's wrong with Hagrid, do you reckon?" Harry asked offhandedly, as he watched the first girl approach Hasta.

"I dunno, it isn't like he's ever taken sick, is it?" Ron replied. "What if he got injured?"

"Oh he wasn't injured," the slithery voice of Draco Malfoy came from the behind them. "Just too afraid to show his great, ugly face in public."

"Ron, do you want to kill him?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off the tethered Unicorn.

"We should probably find out what he's talking about first," Ron replied.

Malfoy thrust a folded page of newsprint into Ron's Hands. Ron unfolded it and began to read, with Neville, Dean and Seamus reading over his shoulder.

"What's it say?" Harry asked.

"Bloody hell, Hagrid's half-giant!" Ron breathed. For the first time since the Unicorn came into view, Harry diverted his eyes from her.

"That ought to put an end to the oaf's teaching career. Mucking about with experimental creatures and a half-giant to boot?" Malfoy grinned.

"Do you think it's true?" Harry asked.

"Don't reckon they could print something like this if it wasn't," Neville murmured.

A grin suddenly split Harry's face. "That's so wicked! I heard giants are spell resistant and think of all the things he can do. I mean I bet he could lift Angelina without a wand. Now I know why he's not married. I bet all the mollies are after him, big bloke like that, he probably just doesn't want to tie himself to one. Good job on his dad's part wasn't it?"

"What?" Dean asked.

"Well, think about it. How bloody fantastic would a bloke have to be to attract a mate four times his size? That would be like a Kneazle mating with… with…"

"A lion?" Ron grinned. Harry resisted the urge to punch him.

"Besides that," Harry continued, "he'd have to be strong and courageous just to approach the woman."

"Harry, they're giants. Dangerous, you know?" Neville muttered.

"No, no," Seamus interjected. "Harry's right. I mean a bloke would have to be bloody fantastic to do something like that, and think of the mechanics of it all."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, he'd have to be huge."

"I saw a picture of his dad once at tea. Bloke didn't look any bigger than anyone else," Ron replied.

"Not like that, Gumby. I mean think about it. It would have to be huge," Seamus reiterated.

"What would?" All four boys asked in unison.

"His…"

"Are you boys paying attention back there?" Grubbly-Plank called out, interrupting the Irish Gryffindor and drawing Harry's attention back to Hasta, still tethered to the tree. However, it was clear to anyone with eyes that she had gone from barely tolerating the situation to near panic, having reared up a little as one of the Slytherin girls had tried to pet her a little too roughly.

"Oh, for Isis' sake," Harry growled and strode purposefully towards the front of the class and the tethered Unicorn.

"Young man, I must insist you stay back," Grubbly-Plank warned. Harry paid no attention to her as he continued his approach. If someone didn't calm the scared unicorn down, she might hurt herself.

"Mr. Potter, do not approach her, you could be…"

"Shut up, you old bat," Harry barked at the professor and then held his hand out to Hasta who took a deep inhale from several feet away. "It's just me, Hasta. Come on. I know I look a little different, but it's just me."

A second later she visibly relaxed as Harry finished the approach and stood next to his worried friend and stroked her mane and muzzle.

"Bloody hell, I know you didn't sign up for this, but in a few they'll let you go and that old bat over there might even give you a couple apples," Harry murmured as he stroked the frightened Unicorn's flank.

"Nicker, whinny, snort, nicker," Hasta replied.

"Ok, I can't understand you so well like this, but I get the gist."

"Oi! Grubby-Board, you're going to have a couple of apples for my friend here, aren't you?" Harry asked rather rudely. He was aware his tone wasn't terribly conciliatory, but with the tension he knew Hasta had to have been going through he wasn't feeling much like debating the matter.

"I beg your pardon?" The professor demanded.

"No, you should be begging Miss Hasta's pardon. She's the one you've got tied to the bloody tree, and she says if you don't want the next student you send up here to wind up gored to death then you'd better be producing some apples!"

"Nicker, nicker, whinny… nicker."

"I know that wasn't exactly what you said, but I think you ought to get something out of it, don't you? I mean they tie you up here without even a by-your-leave and have all sorts of strangers put their hands in some sensitive areas. Not exactly something you ought to do for free. Besides, it's hard for me to quite understand. Keep the sentences short, yeah?"

"Nicker, whinny, whinny," Hasta admitted.

"I'm sure she can do that," Harry assured her. Harry turned back to the gobsmacked professor. "She wants the green ones. Not too tart, mind, and she wouldn't say not so some sugar cubes if you have them hanging about. And how about a bottle of Firewhisky?"

"Mr. Potter!"

"Nicker…"

"Can't blame a bloke for trying," Harry chuckled. "She's serious, though. A few apples or there won't be any more of this 'pet the pony' stuff," he yelled at his temporary professor. Harry gave a final pat to his friend's rump, whispered a goodbye to her ear and walked back towards the entire speechless class.

"I can't believe you just did that," Neville whispered in awe. Harry shrugged and when he turned around, he saw the Grubbly-Plank passing out apple slices to the remaining few students. He smiled. That ought to make Hasta happy, and ensure that the next time they needed a unicorn for a petting project recruits wouldn't be as difficult to find.

The class ended soon after that and to no one's surprise, Harry was asked to stay after.

"Mr. Potter, what you did today was wholly inappropriate, disrespectful and uncalled for. I'm not sure how Professor Hagrid ran this class before, but I can assure you, I give troublemakers a very short shrift. Now, seeing as we're new to each other and your suggestion did indeed seem to help I'm willing to forgo taking house points this time. You do have detention with me this Friday, however and I will be speaking to your head of house about your behaviour today. You're very lucky that the Unicorn didn't react violently to your presence. They don't usually take to men. Any little disturbance could have set it off, which is why I wasn't able to remove you from the situation. Do that again, though and I promise you, it will be the last time you set foot in my class."

Harry rolled his eyes. "First of all, Professor, her name is Hasta, not Unicorn or it or anything else you seem to want to call her, and I assure you the only person she was looking to trample was you, until you gave out those apple slices. Next time you want a little help with some of the forest creatures, just let me know. With a little bit of tasty persuasion, they're usually quite accommodating."

Teacher and pupil stared at one another for a moment until Grubbly-Plank spoke. "You're quite an insolent boy, aren't you?"

"You're quite observant," Harry retorted. "I have another lesson to get to, may I go?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Potter."

"I'll take that as a yes," Harry grinned and skipped off to the next lesson of the day. Hagrid or no, it wasn't shaping up to be a bad time after all. He would, of course, have to find Hagrid and tell him how impressed he was about the larger man's heritage.

The remainder of classes that day passed uneventfully and it was with a growling belly that Harry trudged towards dinner with Ron loudly proclaiming his love of all things culinary. "I can't wait for pudding. Bloody hell, I don't know which I want more, pudding or meat."

Harry chuckled a little. "I'm glad you're so enthused. Even after four years it sometimes takes me by surprise."

"My eating habits?"

"Not having to kill dinner. "

"You're still one odd bloke, Harry," Ron grinned.

"No one else seems to think so."

"Are you bloody serious? Hermione thinks you're odder than I do," Ron laughed.

"She seemed a bit warmer to you today," Harry noted, secretly relieved that his friends were finally reconciling.

"Well, I gave her back her Arithmancy notes. I'd finished with them, finally."

"What did you need them for anyway? I never did work that out."

"Erm… promise to keep it a secret, at least for now?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. "I was using them to…"

"There you are!" The loud voice of Bridgette exclaimed, interrupting whatever Ron was about to say. "Come on, Harry, we have to go test it out."

"Test what out?" Ron asked.

"Something I helped them build during hols," Harry replied.

"What is it?"

"No idea. They just gave me some drawings and asked if I could transfigure downed tree limbs into the different pieces. Not all that difficult really."

"Harry, you have to come help us test it out!" Bridgette huffed. "Tim and Joe are already out there."

"But it's dinner time," Harry protested weakly. He was met with an icy stare from the petite Hufflepuff.

"Fine, fine, I guess I can eat later. Want to come, Ron?"

"Sure, why not. You've got me curious now," Ron agreed and all three headed out into the dwindling daylight.

As they finally found their way to the clearing that housed the strange contraption, Ron let out a whistle. "You built this, Harry?"

"We designed it," Tim protested.

"Nice work."

"What is it?" Harry asked for the final time.

"It's a catapult, a trebuchet to be exact. Muggles use them for assaulting castle. Bridgette tell me you're not going to…"

"Of course we are. Tonight begins the siege of Hogwarts!" Bridgette squealed with delight.

"You're not using rocks," Ron stated firmly.

"Why not? That's what they did in the film Daddy took me to this summer."

"Because you might hurt somebody! Bloody hell, if you lot are going to be doing something dangerous and stupid I might as well stick around and supervise," Ron sighed. "You want to help, Harry?"

"What exactly are we going to be doing?"

"Well, you load a heavy object in the sling and release the lever and it throws the heavy object towards the castle."

"How do you know about that?" Harry asked in disbelief. He hadn't actually asked what the item in question was going to do. He'd been so wrapped up in his frustration about Ginny that when he'd been approached for the project he'd jumped at the chance.

"I tried to pay attention in Binns' class once. It was the only thing I remember us covering. Something about goblins using them in one of their rebellions.

"Oh, well if we're going to do this thing properly we need to meet here tomorrow morning at around seven thirty."

"Why can't we do it now?" Bridgette demanded.

"Because," Harry explained, "if we do it now, no one will notice. If we do it tomorrow morning we might catch the Slytherins out in the open when they have to cross the courtyard for breakfast. Possibly a Ravenclaw or two as well."

"Which leads me to the question, what are you planning on throwing?" Ron demanded.

"Bloody great snowballs."

"It'll be like a huge snowball fight," Joe exclaimed.

"We have to keep anyone from getting seriously hurt, though," Ron pointed out. "There might be a spell we could use… I'll be back. In the meantime, we're going to need a clear shot to the castle so we'll need to move this ruddy great thing out onto flat ground. The far side of the lake ought to do. Wait a bit until the sun is just about set so no one has a chance to spot what we're doing. We'll also need to be here a bit earlier than seven thirty if we want to do this right. Need a couple of good tracer shots to get the range down. I can do some basic calculations, make sure we're about right. Anyway, hop to it and I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"The library. I need to find a spell that will keep us from killing someone."

"You're so responsible, Mr. Granger," Harry mocked.

"Shut it, you sod. I don't fancy getting expelled, but I do fancy hitting Malfoy with a bloody great snowball. This is a suitable compromise, don't you think?"

"You're right, of course," Harry agreed.

oOo

In the pre-dawn light five figures were putting the finishing touches on their siege machine.

"I don't know how you did it, Harry, but your range is spot on. We'll have to keep the weight of the snowballs about the same, but this should plant one of these beauties across Malfoy's face." Ron grinned as he looked at twenty or so premade snowballs which were easily as tall as himself.

"You seem awfully sure Malfoy is going to be there," Harry observed.

"For something like this, he can't be anywhere else. It simply wouldn't be fair," Ron grumped as he straightened his tommy helmet. "Bridgette, why did you give us these Muggle uniforms?"

"Tim's idea. His dad is mad about history and he thought if we were going to siege a castle, we might as well do it properly."

"And you just had five sets lying about did you?"

"No, we asked Cedric to transfigure them for us. Said it was for Muggle Studies."

"You don't have Muggle Studies until third year," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, well, he didn't remember that, did he?" Tim asked.

"What are the stripes for?" Bridgette suddenly interjected as though she were afraid of any lull in conversation.

"They're rank stripes. We all have one, that's a private. Harry is a bit more important, so he's got the three of a Sergeant."

"I don't have any stripes," Ron pointed out. "Just this bar."

"That's because you're in charge! You're our lieutenant," Tim gushed. "You're in charge of our battery, here."

"Lieutenant Ronald Weasley," Ron murmured to himself. "I kind of like the sound of that. So it's kind of like Harry's a prefect and I'm head boy?"

"A bit, but there are a whole bunch of ranks in between," Tim allowed

"And you have to use them when you address us!" Bridgette demanded. "I'm Private Smith, that's Privates Gold and Jones, and Sergeant Potter."

"We really have to do this?" Harry asked.

"Of course we do," Bridgette harrumphed.

"Oi! Private Boomer, is our spotter in the castle ready?" Ron demanded.

"Yes sir! Private Gerald Walsh will signal with red sparks from his wand when the targets are in position."

"Very good. Privates, Jones and Gold, you will be in charge of reloading," Ron ordered.

"Yes sah!" Tim and Joe chorused as they gave awkward salutes.

"Sergeant Potter!"

"Ron, why are you talking like that?" Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was too early for some things.

Ron shrugged. "If we're going to do this, might as well play along. Besides, it's kind of fun. Now, hop to Sergeant!"

"Yes sir!" Harry responded, inwardly shrugging. It certainly wasn't any more bizarre than any of the games he and his siblings had played growing up.

"Sergeant Potter, you will be in charge of launching the snowballs…"

"Ordnance," Tim corrected.

"Yes, yes. You'll also be in charge of elevating the catapult up or down."

"Fire control," Tim supplied again.

"What would you like me to do, sir?" Bridgette asked.

Ron thought for a moment and then smiled. "I'm going to be busy calling out directions for Harry and the others. If I showed you a couple of spells do you think you could do them?"

"Of course, sir!" Bridgette saluted and followed her mentor to a small remaining pile of snow.

Twenty minutes later the anticipation was getting to everyone. Tim was diligently drilling the team on the proper commands for their exercise. The first few snowballs were charmed and Bridgette was diligently working on the others. Each was colour coded according to what they did: the first, a blue one, was designed to flatten out a few feet above the ground and turn back into a layer of snow. The layer would look harmless but it actually would cause anyone who was caught in it or stepped onto it to be stuck fast. The charm would only last for a few minutes, but it would be long enough to launch a few more and catch their prey right in the crosshairs.

Another few minutes of tense waiting and then, "Red sparks!" Harry yelled.

"Fire one!" Ron commanded and the trebuchet swung upwards as soon as Harry pulled the release pin. They all watched as the mammoth piece of frozen ordinance sailed gently through the air and just over the top of the ramparts. "Fire control, stay on target. Reloading team, get your arses in gear. I want a purple break up loaded. Followed by two heavy hitters. Then load the teacher seeker. Snape ought to be out and about by then."

"Yes, sah!" Tim and Joe chorused as they loaded a large purple snowball into the trebuchet. A second later it too was hurdling gracefully towards the castle. However, instead of staying together as its predecessor did, it suddenly broke into hundreds of regular sized snowballs which fell with wild abandon on the presumably trapped students below. The vague cry of surprise and alarm heralded from within the castle, and for a moment Ron looked worried.

"Don't worry, Ron, you charmed them and I double checked. No one's going to get hurt," Harry whispered.

"But what if…" Ron asked, clearly torn.

"Sir, permission to speak!" Bridgette asked.

"Go ahead, Private."

"I asked Private Walsh to send up purple and blue sparks if someone was hurt so we could stop. I haven't seen them yet."

"Good thinking!" Ron sighed. "Oi! Private Gold, what's after Private?"

"Corporal, sah!" Tim called back.

"Private Boomer, you're hereby promoted to Corporal Boomer, carry on!"

Bridgette jumped up and squealed, clapping her hands together. "Take that, you sods, I made corporal before you lot!"

Every thirty seconds or so another giant ball of snow hurtled towards the imposing walls of the castle. The team was working like a well oiled machine, broken only when Bridgette had to substitute for Joe or Tim because they had to relieve themselves behind one of the snow monoliths. The cries of students had become less frequent, but as there had been no blue and purple sparks, no one was worried.

"Sah! Enemy troops exiting from main gate. I estimate contact within two minutes," Bridgette announced. Sure enough, it looked like Professors Moody and Grubbly-Plank were marching towards them with grim intent.

Ron hesitated for a slight moment then called out, "Fire control, elevate back end of the battery thirty degrees, increasing one degree every fifteen seconds. Loading team, I want everything you've got left loaded up and ready for firing. If they catch us we'll be in detention for good! Do not fire until I give the order, is that clear, Sergeant?"

"Yes sir!" Harry saluted and inwardly smiled. Ron was right, it was kind of fun.

"Sir, the angle of the trebuchet won't allow for maximum velocity!" Bridgette pointed out.

"That, corporal is why we're going to give it a bit of a shove."

"Purple break up loaded, sah!" Tim called out.

"Wait for it… Fire away!" Ron called, using a flick of his wand to cause the weighted end to swing just a little faster than Harry thought it should have. "Reload as soon as we're loosed. What do we have left?"

"One teacher seeker and a yellow special!" Bridgette yelled.

"Load the teacher seeker! Fire control, raise back end another three degrees!"

"Yes sir!" Harry responded as he swished and flicked again to magically elevate the back end of the large wooden structure just a little higher.

The first snowball had indeed dissolved into a hundred regular sized ones, but a fast shield charm rendered that ineffective. Grubbly-Plank took the honour of blasting the second one when it showed no sign of breaking up. Unfortunately, her aim was slightly to the side and instead of dissolving the incoming projectile, it merely caused the ball to splinter and the small pieces of snow pelted both teachers with laser guided precision.

"We've only one left, sir!" Bridgette informed Ron. Ron nodded grimly, knowing it would come down to this. They were too close, and the first years couldn't get away on their own. He wouldn't abandon his troops.

"Load it Corporal. We've only one hope." A few seconds later the last frozen ball of wintertime fun hurtled away. "Corporal, I don't recall what the white one with yellow dots does."

"It doesn't really do anything special, sir," Bridgette replied. "The boys were just using it to stand behind when they had to go to the loo."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Ron demanded.

"You told me to load it, sir. There wasn't really time."

All five of them looked at each other at a loss for what to do next. Ron turned to his crew, ignoring the sudden bout of swearing from the teachers that were approaching. "Men, it has been an honour to serve with you on the field of battle today. I want you to know that you have done your houses proud. We arrived here fresh and innocent. We return heroes. Today will mark another momentous occasion for the history of Hogwarts. It is the first siege since Ulfred the Unkempt over six hundred years ago. When we are captured in roughly ten seconds, do not give in to fear." He finished his short soliloquy with a salute that Harry and the little Hufflepuffs returned.

"Right, you lot are coming with me!" Mad eye barked, his wand brandished and a thoroughly disgruntled look on his face. "And someone is going to explain to me why I suddenly smell like I've been drenched in a bucket of piss."

It wasn't the smart thing to do, or the right thing, but they couldn't help it. They all burst into peals of laughter.

They weren't laughing when the received their punishments, however. Snape, as usual, had demanded expulsion for each of them, claiming they endangered the lives of students. Harry thought that it had more to do with the fact that Professor Snape was one of the first ones to be caught in the initial assault, along with, to Ron's perpetual joy, Malfoy and his two goons. Dumbledore declined to grant that particular request, as his eyes danced as though he held the key to a very private joke.

He did, however allow Professor Moody and Grubbly-Plank to give them four detentions each and dock one hundred points from both Hufflepuff and Gryffindor house. Harry was sure that neither house would be terribly pleased with their offending members, and Harry was slightly concerned for the first years. It could get rough if the older students decided they didn't like you. This was softened somewhat by Professor Flitwick having awarded twenty points to each house for 'ingenious use of charm work'. It turned out that he too had been caught in the assault, but had spent most of it announcing that 'whomever had managed this was a wizard with an impressive future'. The ploy to get more points for 'demonstrating exceptional inter-house unity' was shot down by one very stern throat-clearing by McGonagall, even as it seemed Dumbledore was considering it.

McGonagall had announced that she was disappointed, but failed to comment more on the subject, and oddly enough that seemed the worst part of the whole thing. One unforeseen consequence was that Ginny had been apparently caught in the barrage of snow as well (McGonagall had let that little titbit slip). He didn't know why she'd been there, as all reckoning would put her heading the more direct and indoor route to breakfast with the rest of the house of Lions. Of all punishments, potential or real, this unrealized one was the most worrisome.

As they left the Headmaster's office, Harry was understandably distracted so it took Ron shaking him rather violently to get his attention.

"What, I'm sorry," Harry muttered.

Ron merely rolled his eyes. "I know you're in a snit about my sister hating you or something, Harry, but honestly if she doesn't find this funny I don't think she's worth bothering about."

That was exactly what was worrisome. The old Ginny might have found this sort of thing funny, understanding that she wasn't the intended recipient and appreciating the distress of several of her least favourite Slytherins as well as Professor Snape. The new boy-snogging, Harry-hating, damn good-looking Ginny on the other hand, might take a dimmer view on the whole thing.

"Look, mate, try not to worry. Hermione will sound her out soon enough and then you'll know. Or she'll try and take your head off and then you'll definitely know. Have you figured out the egg yet?"

"Egg?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Gumby, the egg. You know, gold, shiny , squeals like Malfoy when you open it. You're supposed to bathe with it, remember."

"Ron, not that I don't trust you, but why would I follow the advice taken from an alleged witness who was attempting to see a boy starkers? Even if that was what he was doing, it doesn't mean it worked."

"Do you have a better idea?" Ron demanded.

"Look I just don't fancy dunking myself in water, that's all."

"You shower every day, Harry."

"Yeah, but that's different. I'm not submerged."

"You're scared of the strangest things."

"Says the boy who squeals when a spider ran across his homework."

"It surprised me, that's all!"

"Look, if I can't get it to work in the next week, I'll try it your way."

Ron shrugged and then abruptly darted into a nearby broom cupboard.

"Ron what…" Then Harry heard it. He'd been so preoccupied thinking about eggs and Ginny that he hadn't heard Ginny. Harry looked around to make sure that no one was watching and then dropped to four legs, hiding beneath in a poorly lit corner of the corridor where his natural black fur would allow him to blend in seamlessly.

"Michael, it was a joke! Can't you see that? I'm sure they weren't out to get you specifically. They just knew when everyone was going to breakfast," Ginny huffed.

"I never said they were after me specifically. They got you, too!"

"Yes, but I have a sense of humour. It was bloody marvellous," Ginny argued.

"It was irresponsible. I can't believe you used to be friends with that git," Coroner huffed.

"What do you mean used to be?" Ginny demanded. "Harry and I are friends."

"Didn't look very friendly at the ball."

"Would you rather I had gone off to dance with him rather than you?"

"Well… that's not… he fancies you is all. Everyone knows it."

Ginny rolled her eyes dismissively. "Oh, come off it. Are we really going to play this game? Harry and I have been mates since forever. He lives with my aunt and uncle. You're going to get all possessive over that?"

"It isn't just this once, though. He gets away with all sorts of things. I heard he was the one who blew up the Shrieking Shack," Coroner accused.

"Ridiculous," Ginny stammered. Harry winced. She usually could lie, but she seemed a bit distracted at the moment.

"See, even you're defending him!" Michael growled.

"Bloody sexing hell!" Ginny yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "We snog a couple times and suddenly you think you can tell me who my friends are? You know what, I don't need this. It's been nice, but we're through."

"You're breaking up with me?" Michael demanded.

"If you can't accept my friends then I've no choice," Ginny pouted.

"Fine, I don't need this. I can get another girl," Corner growled and then turned and strode off.

Ginny stood stock still for a few more seconds and then ran off in the opposite direction, her hand partially obscuring her face. After waiting to make sure she was gone, Harry and Ron emerged from their respective hiding places.

"That was awkward," Ron muttered.

"He's a git. She can do better," Harry scoffed.

"I suppose she can, but she's too young to be dating anyway."

"Says who?" Harry asked.

"Says her older brother," Ron replied. "I didn't stop this one and look where it landed her. As her brother I'm supposed to warn blokes off from this sort of thing. Keep her from getting hurt. I thought it was all rubbish, but look what happened!"

"We should go to the kitchens," Harry announced.

"Not that a spot of breakfast wouldn't be good, Harry, but we have lessons in a few minutes."

"Not for us, for her. Ginny loves orange scones and apart from your mum Hogwarts has the best."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"She and I are mates, didn't you hear?"

"That doesn't mean you're back in her good graces. That girl knows how to hold a grudge, Harry."

"It's a start, Ron, it's a start," Harry beamed.

_AN: UPDATE MAN, with the help of readers everywhere, is empowered by INSPIRATION! Seriously, thank you to all my loyal readers and reviewers. For all those who wanted reconciliation, it's a start. She's obviously not still super angry at him. Hope you enjoyed this one, I've been dying to write the castle siege scene forever. A little more time and I think you'll all have what you want. Grubbly-Plank isn't too happy with him, though. Keep tuned for 14!_


	14. We're Back!

Harry stopped in front of Neville and Ron and gently lowered the large burlap sack he held over his shoulder to the ground.

"I thought you lot were going to get Bridgette. Where are Boomer and the troops?" Ron asked. In the two days since the second siege of Hogwarts, Ron had taken to referring to his personal army of Hufflepuffs as 'the troops'.

"Bridgette and Tim had to take Joe to the Hospital," Harry explained.

"Did Ginny bat bogey them?" Neville joked.

"No, but when I Stunned her she kind of landed on Joe. She's a bit bigger than he is, so it took him to the ground rather hard. It was courteous of him to break her fall like that."

"Why did you Stun Ginny?" Ron demanded. "And what did you do with… Oh no."

Harry shrugged. "We might be on slightly more friendly terms since she ditched that Ravenclaw bloke, but she's still been avoiding me. Not like before, mind, where she'd storm out of the room, but she's been slinking off all the same. So, I got Bridgette to distract her and I Stunned her. Joe and Tim were supposed to catch her, but they must have missed that part of the plan. Then I threw her in the sack and brought her out here so we can all go see Hagrid together," Harry explained as he gently opened the burlap and carefully removed the still unconscious Ginny from the inside. "Now, we just wake her back up and explain as a united and calm group why it was necessary to do this."

"Before we do this, isn't Hermione coming? She's better at this sort of girl stuff," Neville stammered, clearly uncomfortable at the prospect of facing down an irate Weasley.

"Erm… no, not really. She's a bit put out and decided to head to Hogsmeade," Ron muttered, his ears going bright red.

"Our dear friend Ron, here, decided it would be wonderful to drop Divination and instead enter Arithmancy, without telling Hermione. Needless to say she was a bit shocked."

"Shocked is an understatement," Ron sighed. "I don't bloody well understand girls. I thought she'd be pleased that I'm taking school a bit more seriously. I studied all bloody year to be able to take the thing and even got extra tutoring from Professor Vector. Instead she seems to think that I did this all as some kind of weird joke. I never got to tell her we were going to see Hagrid today."

"So you really weren't off trying to shag the bratwurst?" Neville asked, shocked.

"Not for most of it, no. A couple times we found a deserted corridor, but I was so busy trying to pass the entrance test…" Ron shrugged.

"I think it's just shock at the change. You really haven't been the most studious of us," Neville guessed. "I think once she gets used to the idea she'll come around, and once you stops asking for her homework."

"That wasn't my fault!" Ron protested. "I didn't want to see the completed work, but I didn't get a copy of the sheet Professor Vector passed out and I needed it to do the work."

"Bloody hell," Harry groaned. "Now Hermione thinks that Ron is taking the class either to impress another girl or to annoy her and is going to use her for homework answers, marvellous."

Neville shrugged, "Both of you need to really think before you start talking, sometimes. Now, Harry, can we get this over with so we can go see Hagrid and convince him he isn't inherently evil just because his mum might have been."

"That might not be the best line," Ron advised. "Though, I do have to agree with Mr. Sensitivity, here. The sooner we wake Ginny up the sooner we can gauge the damage."

"Cowards," Harry muttered. "_Rennervate!"_ Ginny stirred, yawned, stretched her front arms out, then her back legs and finally rolled on her back and arched herself slightly up in the air."

"This cat thing is getting ridiculous," Ron breathed.

"Ron, what am I doing outside? The last thing I remember was talking to your little Hufflepuff friend and then somebody…" Ginny switched her gaze from her brother to Neville and paused for a moment. That's all it took.

"Harry did it! I had nothing to do with it. Harry did it on his own, well, Ron might have helped but I'd like it to be known that I had nothing to do with it!" Neville practically screamed.

"Nothing to do with what?"

"So much for calm and collected," Harry muttered. "I'm sorry, Ginny, but I had to."

"Had to what?" Ginny asked. Harry guessed the spell was still affecting her brain. She wasn't usually this slow on the uptake.

"Had to… Stun you."

"You stunned me? Why?" A bit of the Weasley temper began to colour her voice again.

"Because you've been avoiding me and we needed you. Couldn't do it without you, really, and as Hermione didn't get the message and no one could find her at the moment. We really need your help, Ginny, please?" Harry turned on his soulful kitten eyes as high as they would go and prayed Ginny wasn't going to reach for her wand.

"With what?" she demanded, her hand sliding towards her pocked. "I swear to Isis, Potter if this is some kind of joke…"

"Hagrid still hasn't come out of his hut and we're going to convince him we don't all hate him. We might dislike his teaching methods, cooking and sometimes personal hygiene habits, but we don't hate him," Neville concluded.

"Faced with Grubby-Board or Hagrid, I'll take Hagrid. At least he doesn't tie my friends to a tree."

"So you need me to help convince Hagrid to come back to work?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," all three boys chorused.

"Fine, let's go."

"That's it?" Ron sputtered. "No screaming, hexing or mum-like temper tantrums?"

"Ron, don't spoil it," Harry hissed. Ginny rounded on her brother.

"No, Ron. I'm thirteen, not three. I don't throw temper tantrums and I certainly don't hex people for no reason. I don't appreciate being Stunned, certainly, but I do suppose I've been rather hard to find the past day or two. Now, Hagrid needs our help, so let's help him." Ginny turned back and began stomping through the snow.

"I don't believe it," Ron gaped. "Did you check her for Polyjuice? I mean that is so incredibly unlike Ginny I don't even know where to begin."

"Maybe she's trying to make up for being mean to Harry," Neville suggested.

"Or perhaps she just really wants to help Hagrid," Harry concluded. "C'mon, I don't want her getting too far ahead."

All three boys had to jog to catch up to a very determined-looking Ginny. "Is he upset because his mum was a giant?" Ginny asked softly as all four of them stood outside his cabin.

"I think that's the general idea," Neville agreed.

All four stood there slightly uncertain as what to do next. Ginny solved the dilemma.

The door flew open with a loud 'BANG' as Ginny nearly blasted it off its hinges. "You've nothing to be ashamed of, Hagrid! Your parents are who they are and we all like you… oh, hello Headmaster," Ginny's voice had suddenly dropped to nearly a whisper. Harry grabbed Neville and Ron's collars as they both attempted to sneak out of range before they could be spotted by the great Albus Dumbledore.

"That's right!" Harry declared as he dragged Ron and Neville with him. "Don't let that Skeeter bitch scare you off!" Harry demanded.

"Living proof of what I've been trying to tell you," Dumbledore added. "I've received countless letters from parents who have told me on no uncertain terms that if I were to let you go they'd take it to the Board of Governors."

"Not everybody, though. Not everybody wants me to stay," Hagrid sniffled, his eyes red and puffy.

"Sod them!" Ron exclaimed. "Sod them all. Who cares about the likes of Draco Malfoy anyway. It's gits like that that give gits a bad name, Hagrid. You know who your friends are."

"You don' know what it's like, tho. The stares, whispers…" Hagrid blew his nose into what looked like a child's blanket.

"You have us, isn't that enough reason?" Neville asked, politely.

"Well, I…"

"You're a fantastic teacher, and we miss you. The first time I got detention in a Care of Magical Creatures class was when you weren't there. Think of it, Hagrid," Harry pleaded.

"Indeed, I refuse to accept your resignation. I expect you back to work on Monday," Dumbledore announced. "Always remember what's truly important in life," Dumbledore reminded them as he stepped out the door. A wave of his wand and the door fixed itself and closed softly.

"You're right," Hagrid admitted. "Me dad would be ashamed of the way I've been acting."

Harry smiled as the chatter turned from the demanding tone of before to happier subjects.

"Have you figured out your egg yet, Harry?" Hagrid asked suddenly.

"No," he admitted. "Ron told me to take a bath with it, but I don't see how that's going to help."

"It's what Krum did!" Ron yelled, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well Krum also took a bigoted tart to the ball, would you do that too?" Ginny scoffed and was met with a glare from her brother.

"Heard about that," Hagrid muttered. "First love can be tough an' all, but you're better off to be rid of her."

"Yeah, well, I suppose so," Ron muttered.

"Heard about you lot throwing snow balls at the castle, too," Hagrid chuckled. "Your dad, Harry, talked about doing that once. Never got around to it, I suppose. He'd be chuffed to know that his son finally made it."

"What were they like, Hagrid?" Harry blurted.

"Yer parents?"

"Mhmm."

"Yer dad was a joker of the finest sort. Popular all throughout school, and loved by just about everyone. 'Cept the Slytherins, of course, and your mum. He was smitten with her right off, he claims since he met her on the train the first day."

"She didn't like him?" Ron asked, surprised. The Weasley children had grown up hearing the fairytale love story of Molly and Arthur. To think of a couple not falling instantly for one another was out of the realm of Ron's understanding.

"Not straight off. They fought like cats and dogs. Course he won her over eventually."

"What was she like?" Harry asked more softly this time.

"Smart, feisty and she had a wicked temper. Wouldn't stand for anyone picking on her friends. Hexed yer dad more n' a few times for that," Hagrid chuckled. "Middle of their sixth year it was going all around that she fancied him, which is why they were always fighting. She deny it, he'd do something barmy and they'd be back to fighting. Then beginning of seventh year, it just seemed like she gave up trying to fight it and they fell in love. Of course, him being head boy and her head girl might've helped. She didn' have much choice but teh work with 'im."

"You knew them well?" Ginny added.

"Not so much James, but Lily was always a fan of the animals. She didn' fancy herself going to work with them full time, o' course, not many people do, but she was down here more n' a few times for a cuppa."

Neville was next with questions about his parents, then Ginny and Ron. After several hours, they noticed that the sun was getting low in the sky and Hagrid finally shooed them out the door.

"Good luck on the egg, Harry," Hagrid smiled. "I know you'll win it."

"Thanks, Hagrid."

Harry felt incredible. He'd spent a whole afternoon in the company of his favourite human and they hadn't fought once, not to mention some of the things he'd found out about his human parents. He felt deliriously happy. It was like they were friends again.

"I'm going for a bit of a walk," Ginny announced. "Want to go, Harry?" Her voice was confident but shaky, and that worried Harry. Perhaps she was a bit sore from the morning Stunning, or maybe the fact that their visit to Hagrid had prevented her from going to Hogsmeade (Ron and Harry had both been kept back this trip and Neville had decided he didn't want to go after the Ravenclaw he took to the ball asked him out.)

"Erm… sure," Harry muttered, feeling his face redden.

"Well, we'll see you back in the tower then, yeah?" Ron asked. Harry nodded and then followed Ginny as they walked silently towards the lake.

They'd been walking for nearly ten minutes when she finally spoke.

"Why were you so interested in your parents, Harry?"

Harry shrugged in return. "I dunno, just seemed right. I have to admit, much as I want to be, I'm not all Kneazle. Mostly, yes, but I was human for a bit, too. It's not all bad I suppose. Full Kneazles aren't able to talk to their humans." Harry gave her a shy smile. It wasn't immediately returned, and so Harry dropped his eyes back to his feet a little dejected. What on earth could he do to make things right again?

He was so deep in thought that he nearly missed when Ginny did speak. "Thank you for the scones."

Harry smiled a little. "They're your favourite," he shrugged.

Another long stretch of silence grew until Ginny broke it again. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry's head jerked up. Ginny almost never apologised, mostly because she rarely had anything to apologise for.

"What for?"

"I've been sexing horrible to you. I should have been supporting you. It's what friends do. Hermione finally talked a bit of sense into me and I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner, but I've been a bit nervous."

Harry shrugged, trying to hide the grin on his face. "It isn't a big deal, Ginny."

"I'm sorry, I really am. I was scared and worried and I suppose a little jealous," Ginny admitted.

"Scared I understand but what were you jealous of?"

Ginny gave him a small, sad smile. "Molly,"

"Who?" Harry asked, a little confused.

"This mystery girl who's caught your attention. Honestly you ought to just tell her how you feel if you haven't already. I mean, really, why didn't you take her to the ball?"

"Sparkplug, her name isn't Molly. Well, not her first, anyway."

"It isn't?"

"Nope," Harry grinned and he wanted to with every fibre of his being tell her right then what she meant to him, but something stayed his tongue. "Just her middle name."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ginny breathed. "Because the only Molly I could think of was Molly Fitzgibbons in Slytherin and she's in Fred and George's year. That would just be wrong."

"Nope, just her middle name."

"What's her first?" Ginny asked.

"That's a secret for now," Harry winked. For that moment, beneath his exterior bravado, he wondered if he was really cut out to be a Gryffindor.

"So, I mean I don't expect you to forgive me right away. I was being an awful prat, but I was hoping maybe we could be friends again?"

"As far as I'm concerned we never stopped. I missed you," Harry admitted.

"That's it? No cold shoulder or ranting about what a git I've been? We're just friends like that?"

"Ginny, you've been a right git to me, but it wasn't entirely your fault. I didn't tell you I was going to enter and I suppose you have a right to be upset with me, but you're my human. I couldn't stop caring about you anymore than I could about my own tail. You apologized, and I forgave you. That's how this works, isn't it? Sure you're a pain in the arse sometimes, but you're my pain."

Ginny smiled softly and gave her first friend a fierce hug. "You know just what a girl wants to hear. I missed you too, Paws," she murmured.

In that instant everything was right with the world. "Now, what's this about bathing with an egg?" Ginny asked, looking up at him.

"Shite…"

oOo

"Where am I supposed to take a bath with the bloody thing?" Harry whinged for the fifteenth time that day. "We only have showers here." Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny and Neville were all sitting around the common room fire and as usual, Hermione had brought up the mystery of the egg again. Neville was trying desperately not to lose to Ron in chess and Ginny and Harry had just finished a particularly smelly game of Gobstones.

"I heard Percy say once that the prefects have a bath all to their own," Ron supplied.

"Helpful as that is, Ron, none of us here are prefects," Neville pointed out.

"No, but maybe one of ours would let you in. Fred and George might even know the password."

"No, I don't think they're allowed to give those sorts of things out," Ginny mused. "We're going to have to sneak in. Wouldn't you agree, Paws?"

"Preying on Harry's sense of mischief to convince him to go on another escapade with you is hardly fair," Hermione grumbled.

"But she's right, Hermione. You've been the one bugging me about figuring this bloody thing out. So, I think it's only fair that you lend a hand."

"There's one on the second floor. Next to the statue of Boris the Bewildered," Ron offered.

"How do you know that?" Ginny demanded.

"Bridgette told me. Said, she was heading to the kitchens when she saw Cedric come out of there. Took me a while to understand her. She was giggling the whole time."

"Wait, aren't the Hufflepuffs right near the kitchens?" Hermione pondered.

"I dunno, I suppose they're nearby."

"Then why would she be on the second floor looking for Cedric Diggory?"

"Apart from the fact that he's dreamy?" Ginny mock swooned, ignoring Harry's pointed growl.

"Doesn't matter, does it? Because first off, Bridgette is six years younger, secondly Diggory is going out with the leader of Harry's personal fan club, Cho Chang, and thirdly we now know where the prefects' bathroom is so it really doesn't matter."

"But how am I supposed to get in there?" Harry asked again. "I can't just very well wait around and ask someone for the password. Or what if it's a riddle?"

"Why don't you Stun them as they're going in or out?" Ginny grinned. "Worked on me didn't it?"

"You know, Sparkplug, that's not a bad idea."

Two days later the trap was laid and Harry with Neville and Hermione waited outside the prefect's bath. "Where's Ginny?" Harry whispered. Both she and Ron hadn't shown for their appointed mugging of a prefect. Hermione didn't approve of this plan, naturally, but Harry pointed out it was likely the best shot he had without getting hypothermia in the lake.

"She's in detention," Neville whispered back.

"What for?"

"Caught out of bounds trying to peek at the registry of names for Hogwarts."

"That's a bloody odd thing to get detention for, don't you think? What about Ron?"

Neville stared at the Marauder's map. "Looks like he's in the Great Hall. What's he doing there? He and Malfoy are a bit close for comfort," Neville muttered.

"Shh! Someone's coming," Hermione cautioned.

A tall sixth-year boy wearing Slytherin colours, Harry thought his name might have been Will Ebert or something like that, marched smartly to the door and announced in a clear voice "Altoona!" The door swung open and he walked in, failing to notice the large black Kneazle who followed on his footsteps.

"Neville, you were supposed to Stun him!" Hermione whispered.

"I thought you were going to do it," Neville countered.

"Wait, where's Harry?" They both said at the same time. As they asked the door popped open and the unconscious form of one Slytherin prefect scooted out into the hallway as though under his own power. Harry's head poked out a second later.

"Mind stashing him somewhere for a bit? He's going to have a bit of a headache. I forgot to catch him when he fell."

"That's getting to be a theme with you, isn't it?" Neville asked. "There's a suit of armour just down the corridor. We can get him there."

"And what, stuff him inside and wait for him to wake up?" Hermione hissed.

"You have a better idea? Harry, you go take a bath with the egg and we'll be back here in a jiffy. Hurry, we don't have Ginny or Ron to distract them if anyone comes."

Harry nodded and headed inside, while his two companions drug the larger boy down the hall.

Harry stepped inside and surveyed the room. Several baths were there, each large enough to submerge both his head and the egg inside at the same time. Harry tried not to think of the feeling of cold, wet, and dark surrounding him. He began to strip off quickly.

"Hello, Harry," A voice called. Harry whirled in a stage of partial undress and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello Myrtle, come to get an eyeful?"

"You know, you really shouldn't be here. You were terribly rude to me the last time we met."

Harry recalled the not so thinly veiled threats he'd made to coerce her cooperation in saving Fred and George from the Chamber of Secrets two years prior. "I am sorry about that, but it was a matter of life and death."

"I suppose," Myrtle grumped. "But now that you've come to visit maybe we can talk for a bit?" she continued, shyly.

Harry shrugged as he stripped off the last of his clothes and picked the egg up from where he'd set it. Striding cautiously over to the first tub he began to adjust the knobs. The water needed to be just right; he didn't need any more stress.

"Boys aren't usually this forward with me," Myrtle giggled, pointedly staring at Harry's bare backside.

"That might be because you're dead and they're not likely to mate you," Harry growled. "Now, if you'll please leave me be." The stress was getting to him and he wasn't even in the bath yet.

"Tetchy!" Myrtle harrumphed. "I was going to keep a lookout for people coming in here, but if that's the way you're going to be I don't think I will."

"Please, this is trouble enough," Harry bellowed, his nerves getting the best of him as he submerged the egg and climbed in after it.

He sat there a moment steeling his nerves. He wasn't this nervous when he faced the dragon. 'It's only water', he told himself. That was exactly the problem. It wasn't as though he couldn't swim. Mum taught all her kittens to do so, just in case. To a Kneazle though, they all hated it. Except Agrippa, he was a bit twisted and actually enjoyed the whole ordeal. Strange, that one.

"On the count of three," Harry muttered. He got to two and plunged his head beneath the water, fighting panic the whole time. Remembering why he was there, Harry cracked the egg and listened intently. It worked. He could understand it!

After an eternity and a half, Harry removed his head, closed the egg, and once out of the bath and dry he dressed quickly.

As he exited the bathroom, Harry looked both ways and spotted Hermione and Neville, now devoid of their unconscious burden, trying to stay inconspicuous behind a statue. They were failing spectacularly.

"Did it work? What did it say?" Hermione breathed.

"Yeah, I got it," Harry sighed, slicking his hand through his wet hair.

"Well, what did it say?" Hermione demanded.

"It said I'm sitting the second task out, or at least that's what I'm pretty sure it said," Harry shrugged. "Come on, we have to find out what Ron's up to."

"Not today, mate. He's with McGonagall," Neville warned. "Something else is weird, are you sure this thing works correctly?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, Hermione and I were looking at the little dots, and there are a bloody lot of them, let me tell you, when we noticed something peculiar. Crouch is here."

"Who?"

"Percy's boss," Hermione supplied. "I suppose he must be feeling better, but we haven't heard anything at all about him being here. Even a colossal bore like him would garner at least a little attention."

"Did you just call a Ministry official a colossal bore?" Neville gaped.

"I suppose so," Hermione blushed.

"Bloody hell, who cares if he's here or not, let's get out of here before someone comes along."

"Why didn't we do this at night again?" Neville asked a little petulantly.

"Because if we're caught out of bounds we'll get detention, and a big part of the plan happened to revolve around Stunning a prefect. I doubt even they are going to be wandering around in the middle of the night deciding to take a bath. Right now we just need to clear the area so no one accuses us of stuffing that prefect in the suit of armour. Now let's go!" Hermione urged.

Both boys followed her lead walking as nonchalantly as their consciences would let them.

That night, safely ensconced in the familiar surroundings of the common room, Hermione wasted no time getting to the heart of what was on her mind.

"What do you mean it said you were sitting it out? You have to participate, Harry," Hermione screeched.

Harry shrugged. "It said something about seeking where their voices sound and they can't sing on land."

"Well that means they're underwater," Neville chimed in. Both Harry and Hermione gave him rather withering looks. "Fine, see if I point out the obvious next time," he huffed.

"Then it said something about taking a great treasure and I'd have to get it back in an hour or something."

"That sounds fairly straightforward. You have to retrieve something from under the water," Hermione reasoned.

"So out of the lake then?" Neville asked.

"I suppose so. Not like they're going to have me bobbing for apples in a toilet, is it?" Harry scoffed. "But I'm not doing it."

"But you have to!" Both Hermione and Neville exclaimed.

"Why? It isn't like there's anything they can take that I'll really miss. They can have it. I'll show up but I'm reasonably sure I don't have to try."

"Harry, you're the one who wanted in this bloody tournament and now you're going to give up? Over a little water?" Hermione demanded.

"It isn't just a little water!" Harry snapped. "It's the whole of that bloody lake I'm going to have to search, don't you get it? I have to do it in an hour. Where the bloody hell am I supposed to even start looking? The giant squid doesn't sing and I'm not sure what else lives there. Who knows? Could be dog fish, or hellbenders for all you know."

"Merpeople, has to be," Neville snapped his fingers. "We know they live down there because Harry brought one up last year."

"Perfect, and where do the merpeople live, exactly?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno, Hagrid might, though."

"You're still talking as though I'm going to do it," Harry scoffed.

"Do what?" the twin voices of Fred and George answered simultaneously.

"Go diving in the bloody lake," Harry shot back mulishly.

"Harry, here, has decided that he doesn't want to participate in the Second Task, because he's afraid of water," Hermione added.

"You can't swim, mate?" Fred asked.

"I can swim, I just prefer to keep my head above water and stay the hell out of the water," Harry answered.

"If you can swim, why are you afraid of the water?" George countered.

"I never said I was afraid."

"But you are," Hermione prodded.

"Bloody well right I am! I hate it. It's bad enough my tongue isn't long enough to clean and I have to stand in the damn shower, but to go voluntarily sticking my head under water? No thank you."

"After all we went through to help you solve that egg today, you better figure something out," Neville growled.

"And what were the brave adventurers up to today?" Fred winked.

"We helped Harry break into the prefect's bathroom, and Stunned that sixth year prefect from Slytherin."

"You stunned Will Ebert?" George asked incredulously. "Then who stuffed him in that suit of Armour?"

"That was us," Neville admitted.

Fred and George stared for a second and then burst into laughter. "That's priceless. He asked us if we did it."

"Demanded, really," George added.

"Yes, demanded, but we honestly told him we didn't know what he was talking about. It couldn't have happened to a better bloke!" Tears were rolling down both twins' eyes at this point and the three friends could only stare and wait for the laughter to subside.

"Seriously, though, thanks for that."

"For what?"

"For getting him. He's a complete arse. He's always getting into fights with Danny Greene, the seventh-year Slytherin prefect, because Danny won't stand for little old Will to dock points without reason."

"Will has come after us a few times, but luckily Danny has a chain on him. For a Slytherin, Danny is alright," George allowed. "Will is a bit too eager to enforce his power, though. Thankfully he gets a bit of humiliation and we don't have to get our hands dirty. You really don't like to go under water, Harry?" George finished, changing thoughts rapidly.

Harry shook his head vehemently. "And another thing, how are we supposed to find something underwater? Not like I'm doing it anyway, but it isn't like we can breathe under water," Harry replied irritably.

"There are charms for that," Hermione responded.

"Do you know them?"

"Well, not off the top of my head, certainly. With a little time I'm sure we can come up with something," Hermione pointed out.

"Not that I am doubting your academic excellence, Hermione, but you'd have to find an appropriate charm, hope it works for the task ahead and teach it to Harry so he can do it under pressure all in two weeks."

"We might have something better," George offered.

"What?"

"Look, I don't want to say anything at the moment, but give us a day or two and we should have something for you."

"It's something we've been working on for a project for Bill," Fred continued. "And there's always Gillyweed."

"What's that?" Hermione asked quickly.

"It's a plant that if eaten it gives you gills for an hour," Fred answered.

"That has its own set of problems," George countered. "No reversal and it lasts an hour. If you come up before that you're stuck with those bloody gills. Can't breathe air or anything until it wears off, and as Mr. Longbottom pointed out, we don't know what the task will entail. Best to give him a little flexibility, eh?"

"We'll need to know soon, otherwise Harry is going to be out of luck and looking mighty stupid if you lot don't pull through," Neville pointed out.

"We'll let you know tomorrow. We just haven't tested it yet," Fred said, slapping the younger boy on the back.

"Bloody hell! It isn't like I'm doing it anyway. There's absolutely nothing they can take that would make me that desperate to stick my head under water. The bath was bad enough. I've no intention of mucking around in the lake," Harry shouted.

oOo

Harry stood on the edge of the lake, the waters shrouded in darkness. He watched as the semi-frozen water moved ever so slightly under the cold north breeze. Instinctively, Harry tugged his cloak a little tighter about his body, wondering for the umpteenth time why he didn't simply transform into his fur coat and be done with it.

Despite the advantage of his winter coat having come in, Harry stayed resolutely in human form watching the low hanging moon. "Moon's bright tonight," a voice came from behind, but Harry didn't move.

"Mr. Black, should you really be out on two legs?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Harry. A bit past curfew isn't it?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry grunted.

"Saw that last performance you did, Harry. You've really got a way with them, don't you?"

"Who?"

"Animals, doesn't seem to matter what kind. I'm surprised you didn't try and talk the dragon into giving you the egg."

"I don't speak dragon," Harry chattered, his teeth beginning to clack from the cold.

"You have an idea how you're going to do the task tomorrow?" Sirius asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Fred and George gave me one of their gadgets. You put it in your mouth and it allows you to breathe underwater for an hour or so, and they gave me some goggles and a charm to enchant them. So I can see underwater. The charm wears off after a little bit, though, so I have to do it right before I go in.

"They sound like useful blokes to have on your side."

"They're all right. Ron isn't too bad either," Harry allowed, smiling a little to himself. "He's in detention all this week for fighting with Malfoy. Drew the attention of two professors and all the prefects. I thought he was just skiving off. That's why I was able to figure out the egg without distraction. Doesn't matter, though. I told them, there's nothing they can take that I'm going down there for," Harry ground out.

"Come again?"

"The egg I got was a riddle. We figured it out. They're going to take something and I have to get it back from the merpeople. Doesn't matter, nothing I want back that badly."

"Are you afraid of water, Harry?"

"I just don't like getting my head wet. Showers are ok, but forget baths, and this lake is just one giant bathtub. Before you ask, yes, I can swim, but it isn't like I want to."

"Kneazle to the core, eh? Some of the others in the forest have expressed a similar sentiment."

"You're talking to the Pride?"

"Off and on. My Kneazle still isn't very fluent, but they seem to think I'm a friend of yours, so they let me hang around a bit. The mother one told me to look after you. Said you got into more trouble than her last two litters put together."

"I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. As long as I show up, they can't be too upset."

"Are you sure there isn't anything you'd want back?"

"I'm invisible enough without the cloak, the map is dead useful, but I reckon you could tell me how you lot made it and I could make a new one. My wand, my knife? Things are replaceable."

"What about people?" Sirius probed.

"What about them?"

"Anyone you'd risk your neck to save?"

"Of course," Harry answered immediately.

"Dumbledore has a funny sense of things," Sirius commented idly.

Harry whirled to face his dogfather for the first time. "Are you saying they're going to take someone?"

"Not at all, I'm just talking out loud. Look, Harry, if you don't want to do it, best you don't. I wouldn't worry too much about tomorrow. You have a plan if you have to and that's all you need."

"I'm still not doing it. They can't make me," Harry reaffirmed, resolutely.

"Not saying they could," Sirius agreed.

The next morning, Harry headed to the forest to catch breakfast. The familiar activity helped to calm his nerves. Despite the scarcity of available prey, he was still the first to the judges table.

"Vaht do you think they took?" Krum grumbled.

Fleur and Harry both shrugged as they waited with anticipation for Ludo Bagman to announce their start. Fleur was braiding her hair, presumably to keep it tight while in the water, Krum began stripping down to his bathing costume, and Harry took out the pair of goggles in his pocket and practiced charming them. Reapplying it several times, though he was sure he had it right the first time.

"I'm not going to do it," Harry muttered, though he was feeling uneasy about the whole thing. He'd checked his trunk that morning before the hunt and both map and cloak were still in place. His knife was tucked beneath his pillow and they hadn't taken his wand. Even his secret stash of Kneazle treats was untouched. So Harry couldn't figure out what they'd taken.

Bagman walked in with an air of confidence and grinned widely at Harry. "Welcome champions!" Bagman announced. "You each did remarkably well in the previous task and you stand here ready for yet another. Be prepared, because as your riddle says, they have taken something you'll sorely miss, or in this case, some one!" Bagman grinned.

Harry felt the adrenaline kick in as he scanned the crowd for his friends and one person in particular. He missed all the other instructions, the one hour time limit and several other seemingly vital instructions. Harry felt his chest ease a little as he found each one. Hermione and Ron were bickering in the stands while simultaneously trying to cheer him on. Luna was explaining something to several sixth-year Ravenclaws who clearly were trying to ignore her, and Neville yelling himself hoarse.

'BANG!' the explosion shook the stands as a large and animated firework exploded above the stands. It formed a stylized badger wearing a traditional wizard's hat pummelling a winged horse and Wolf. Based on the outraged faces on the observers from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Harry would be willing to wager they were the school's traditional mascots.

"Kill 'em Harry!" called out the unusually loud voice of Bridgette 'Boomer' Smith. Harry smiled briefly, that took care of those three and based on the fireworks Fred and George as well.

The only person he couldn't find was Ginny.

"Begin!" Bagman called and Harry's heart beat faster.

"Where's Ginny?" he yelled. No one heard him.

"_Sonorus"_ Harry whispered, pointing his wand at his throat. "Where's Ginny? Ginny!" Harry bellowed. The crowd went silent, many holding their ears.

"Mr. Potter, it seems she's not here," McGonagall admonished.

Harry didn't listen to the rest of his cousin's lecture. Ginny had promised she'd be here to root him on. The only reason she wouldn't be is if… if she were hostage. Thoughts of her prisoner of sadistic merpeople and tuna, holding his human as revenge for their siblings that he'd eaten flashed through his mind.

He stared at the cold, dark, unforgiving water for a moment and made a decision. To hell with good sense, he was going to save Ginny or die trying. He pulled on his charmed goggles, jammed Fred and George's portable gill into his mouth and removed his wand and knife from their respective sheaths.

He placed the tip of the knife, blade downward, at the top of his breastbone, a millimetre from his skin and slid it rapidly downward. The goblin silver slit the robes as though they were thin paper. The crowd began to giggle a little as Harry, clad in very little remaining, slit several strips of cloth from the now shredded robe and used them to tie his knife sheath firmly in place around his leg.

He walked to the water's edge and gave a brief salute to Ron and Hermione before plunging headlong into the depths of the lake.

"Bloody hell, it's not like Dumbledore is going to let anything happen to her," Ron breathed, astonished at their friend's boldness.

"Are you quite sure?" Hermione sounded a little concerned.

"He could, I suppose," Ron allowed. "But the old man better pray nothing does. I can't imagine what Harry would do."

_AN: Here it is the reconciliation you've all been waiting for. I know several of my wonderful reviewers have asked that Harry give as good as he got, but that just isn't the Kneazle way. Not only is she his human, he fancies her in a very serious way. I hope to have chapter 15 ready in another couple of weeks so you can see how the second task and its inevitable aftermath turn out. Since I haven't said it in some time, a hearty thank you to Wsbenge for writing the story 'The Natural Animagus' and giving me the inspiration for the whole Becoming Human series. While at this point I don't think TMNK resembles the Natural Animagus what so ever, the roots are still there. A hearty thank you to all my reviewers and the members of TEAM UPDATE, Rosina Ferguson and Arnel for helping make this story all that it can be._


	15. The Wet Badge of Courage

_Lump-lump…_

Harry's heart was pounding as he dove into the lake. His enchanted goggles were strapped over his eyes and Fred and George's breathing device was jammed firmly in his mouth.

_Lump-lump…_

Skills rusted from years of disuse slowly began to return as Harry thrashed about in the water for a few seconds before he calmed down enough to focus on the goal. Ginny was in trouble. Someone had taken her; he'd kill them when he returned to the surface, but for now he had to find his human. She couldn't die. Not when things were finally getting better.

Harry took another deep breath and tried to calm his mind, ridding it of all thoughts of the potential harm that could have befallen his red-headed beauty. She was fine. She was unhurt. He would get her back.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Harry's mind calmed slightly, his swimming strokes becoming more fluid with each motion. His heart was still racing faster than a cheetah at a track meet. His reflexes were sharper than the knife he carried strapped to his leg.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

The grindylow found out how fast both were to his lasting detriment. Harry didn't even consciously remember the feeling of long fingers grasping his leg, but before he knew it the grindylow was dispatched with Harry's knife buried to the hilt in its head. He pulled it free with a rough jerk and noticed four more hiding in the gloom. None seemed keen to approach and after staring them down for another moment, Harry sheathed his knife and swam away.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Hagrid had told him approximately where to look but there was a tugging in his navel, something primal that kept the now aquatic Kneazle swimming downward into the gloom of the lake. He had an hour to find her. Not only because the breathing gadget the twins had given him lasted only that long without recharging, but the time limit loomed large in Harry's mind. He thought he saw Myrtle in the distance, but if she had seen him she disappeared just as quickly, keen to avoid contact.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Harry's heart was beating dangerously fast now, and he could feel it straining his reserves of strength and fortitude. 'Ginny, must find Ginny,' was on a continuous running loop through the boy's mind and it was all that kept terror from turning into panic.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Mentally cataloguing the dangers Harry knew about, the tiny portion of his rational brain cheered that he'd only met one. The giant squid was nowhere to be seen and thus far, he hadn't met merpeople, though he would have to, if his suspicions were correct.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

The water was more than a mentally terrifying inhibitor. It slowed his movement and reaction time. Harry was sure that the only reason he'd managed to dispatch the grindylow with such efficiency was due to the small creature's failure to anticipate the blow. If he had to fight perhaps multiple fish creatures, to whom this watery hell was as much their home as any forest was to him, even the bravest of Kneazles wouldn't be foolish enough to estimate his chances at better than fair. Harry figured his weren't that good. He had seven perhaps eight of his thirteen lives left, and he might need at least four of them to get out of this with his Ginny.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

A few more minutes of swimming and stone huts began to emerge from the darkness of the Sirius sent water. Harry drew his knife, and with difficulty continued his slow swim through the village. Merpeople began to emerge, but made no move towards him until he passed one hut in particular. An older looking (by Harry's limited standards, anyway) Merman emerged and let out an incoherent roar of rage, causing Harry to spin and face his would be attacker. Harry noticed a merwoman hiding in the hut and covering her ample chest with both hands and cowering in the corner.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

The first spear thrust missed by a whisker, the second was not so lucky. Harry felt the burning sensation of an open wound as the razor tip of the merman's spear grazed his shoulder spilling blood into the water. Dropping a little deeper to the lake bottom, Harry managed to position himself on a rock while evading the third precision strike. Before he could launch from his perch for a counter attack several other fish-men surrounded their angry clansman and began obviously yelling at him and pushing him back towards the line of stone huts. Another stood sentry and pointed towards three logs standing vertical in the water. Harry nodded and eyed the merman warily. He merely rolled his eyes impatiently and gave the universal sign for 'carry on, nothing to see here.'

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

The burning in his shoulder made swimming doubly difficult and Harry could feel the depths of his strength beginning to falter. Then he saw her.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Her red mane was drifting lazily about her head in a halo of perfection, her complexion was pasty white, though he could tell the breath of life hadn't left her completely. Tied to one of the other two posts was Gretel, the amazing racist and a small blonde girl who resembled Fleur too much not to be of some relation. They didn't matter, though.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

The goblin silver sliced through ropes with only a few strokes and Harry began the awkward attempt to drag Ginny to the surface of the lake. His shoulder was on fire now and still leaking a red trail of life essence into the water. He held Ginny with the wounded arm and kicked and paddled for all he was worth to break the surface.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

He had his human, he could tell by her body warmth she was alive and that was all that mattered.

'Isis protect we Kneazles…' Harry began reciting in his head. A few minutes (or was it an eternity?) later, his head broke the surface. Harry dragged the unconscious form of Ginny towards the bank, silently vowing never to do something so foolish again.

"He's the first one back!" Harry heard Ron cheer. As his feet finally touched silt and then dirt Hogwarts students of all ages crowded the newly arrived champion. Harry's final nerve snapped when an unfamiliar hand reached out to slap him heartily on the back and missed due to the two-legged Kneazle's uneven gait. The offending hand narrowly missed slapping the still form of Ginny across the head.

_Lump-lump, Lump-lump, Lump-lump…_

Harry's heart began to slow, but his instincts were running wild. He collapsed to his knees holding his rescued hostage to his chest with one hand and his wand with the other. The next two students who tried to push through the crowd to help were summarily hexed and after that, the crowd backed up, frightened and angry whispers floating throughout.

"What's going on, Ludo?" McGonagall asked, having finally gotten back from the castle after dealing with the incorrigible Hufflepuff troublemakers.

"The boy's gone mad. Hexed two other students and won't let anyone else near. Nearly took my head off when I tried to congratulate him. We can't do a thing about his shoulder either, and with him carrying on like this it won't reflect well on the judges' scores, first back or not. Mental stability is something we really ought to consider in the future of this tournament," Bagman muttered, while warily staring at the boy in question.

Harry, on the other hand, slowly and painfully got to his feet and began dragging Ginny towards the woods. No one was willing to stop him, so it was with a little luck that just before the tree line, the petite redhead woke up.

"Harry? What's going on? Is it over? How did I get out of the water?" Ginny mumbled as she woke groggily from her enchanted sleep

"You're safe. I've got you. We have to get to the trees. The forest is safe for us," Harry mumbled back. His eyes were still wild and his wand was moving erratically.

Ginny tried to stand, but was prevented by the backwards motion and strong grip of her friend. "Harry, we're ok," Ginny assured him. When the backwards motion didn't stop, she dug her heels in. "Harry, let me go!" she shouted.

Harry continued, oblivious to the protestations of the girl in his arms.

"Harry, please, you're hurting me," Ginny pleaded, and like magic, he stopped moving and relaxed his grip so that he was merely holding her protectively.

Harry blinked once, twice, three times and the world swam back into its regular form. "We're safe?" he muttered, more of a question than a statement.

"We're safe," Ginny confirmed.

"Did I win?"

Ginny shrugged a little, "I don't know. I was unconscious for most of it and the last bit I was trying to convince you not to drag me off into the woods."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Sorry about that."

"Mr Potter!" The commanding voice of his professor and cousin carried to Harry's sensitive ears.

"I didn't hex her, did I?" Harry asked Ginny softly.

"I don't think so, but I've been all sorts of wrong rather recently, so I wouldn't trust me if I were you."

"Mr Potter, please put your wand down if you are in a sane state of mind. Your shoulder needs immediate attention and the rest of the champions have finally returned. Your scores are being tallied at the moment. Please see that he gets proper attention, Miss Weasley. I need to speak with Mr Bagman."

Harry nodded and lowered his wand, standing slowly. "Paws, you're going to have to let me go," Ginny giggled as she was forcibly brought to her feet with him.

"After that I'm never letting you go again," Harry growled.

"Might make going to the loo rather difficult, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Harry conceded as he finally released his human.

"Oh, don't look like that. Now, what did Professor McGiggles mean when she said your… Your shoulder is bleeding, Paws!" Ginny pointed out.

"I caught a bit of a merman's spear point down there. It seems elephants aren't the only things that never forget."

"But it's a bloody great wound. It's still bleeding!"

"It's not that bad," Harry defended, but his body had begun to tell him something remarkably different now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

"We're going to see Madam Pomfrey, Paws, whether you like it or not." Harry nodded dumbly and followed the firecracker in front of him towards the small tent clearly marked for medical needs. Ginny threw open the flap and marched in, dragging a reluctant Kneazle-boy behind her.

"I'll be with you in a moment dear," Madam Pomfrey greeted them and then turned back to the petite blond girl Harry had seen at the bottom of the lake. Harry found a seat and collapsed gratefully into it. Ginny plopped next to him.

"Paws," Ginny began. "I haven't asked you yet, how did you get me out?"

"Swam," Harry shrugged, as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't feel much like talking about it right then. His shoulder was killing him and the nightmare that was the lake was still fresh in his mind.

"No, really, how did you do it?" Ginny persisted.

"I swam, Sparkplug. Fought grindylows and mermen. Got stuck in the shoulder and carried you out."

"Why?"

"Because you were down there," Harry said, very slowly as though talking to a child.

"But you hate water. I mean I think you hate water more than Ron hates spiders or Charlie hates sprouts," Ginny exclaimed.

"I did it for you."

"I know, you said," Ginny scoffed. "But let me tell you, Paws, you're going to have to come up with a better excuse for why… oommmth!" Harry's hand landed squarely over her mouth, effectively ending her tirade, as he rolled onto his good shoulder until he was mere inches from her face.

"I did it for you. I did the whole bloody thing for you, Ginevra Molly Weasley. The tournament, the dragon, and that sexing lake. I'd do it all again, I'd swim to the bottom of the ocean if that's where you were."

Ginny let out a small squeak as her friend's hand left her mouth, but she didn't utter a word. Her eyes were saucers and her mouth hung open an inch or two as she stared, disbelieving at the soaking and bloody boy in front of her.

"Why?" was all she could manage, the whisper so soft that even Harry's ears had trouble picking it up.

"Because I fancy you in a way I doubt any Kneazle should fancy their human."

"I kind of gathered that, but why me? You could have any girl."

Harry smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Because you're worth it." Harry stared at the girl in front of him and she stared back, a magic no wand could ever create seemed to boil in the air. Her lips looked soft and inviting, dare he risk it? She hadn't actually responded with how she felt, but she hadn't pulled away either and mere inches separated them.

"Mr Potter, up here if you will," came the disruptive voice of the matron, vanishing the magic as surely as the cold north wind vanishes the last vestiges of autumn. Both teens stared at one another for a heartbeat more and then Harry stood and dutifully sauntered to the examination table, removing his torn and bloody clothing on the way.

Ginny was sure of one thing right then. She wasn't getting much sleep tonight.

oOo

When Harry turned around, his shoulder healed, the red-headed fury that haunted his dreams was nowhere to be seen. "Did you see a girl leave just now?" Harry asked the matron.

Madam Pomfrey merely shook her head and mumbled, "Looking for girls when he has a gash the size of a nundu in his shoulder. Boys never change."

Harry shrugged and pulled what was left of his robes over his body and headed out of the tent. His Ginny sense was tingling. She was close, he could tell. Unfortunately, the first person who found him was distinctly more Irish than he'd been hoping for. "You won, you bloody great fool. I can't believe it! You, the youngest champion here won the bloody thing!" Seamus congratulated him.

Then Fred and George found him wondering how their 'gift' had worked out and if it wasn't too much trouble could he talk to them later so they can work any bugs out. Then more Gryffindors pressed in to congratulate him, as did the Hufflepuffs. Even the odd Slytherin was wishing him well. Everyone was there, it seemed, except for the one person who he wanted to see most.

"You won!" Neville cheered, loudly enough that Harry's ears rang.

"What are you talking about? I was first, but I got injured, doesn't that count against me?"

"The Mercheftainess talked to Dumbledore and I guess it was all a big misunderstanding. Even if you finished last, it wouldn't matter, you were the only one who completed the task successfully."

"What?" Harry stared at Neville dumbfounded. There was no way that both of the other champions failed.

"Well, I asked Hagrid, and he told me that the Delacour witch didn't finish at all, but then Krum came up with her hostage."

"But that bigoted tart he took to the ball was tied up down there, too. Why didn't he grab her? When did all this happen?"

"When you were having your little alpha-male moment. You were out of it a bit longer than you think, I'd guess," Neville shrugged.

"Right, but why didn't Krum grab his own hostage?"

"She vasn't vorth it." The thick, accented English belonging to none other than the Champion in question caused both Neville and Harry to jump and turn to face the older student.

"What do you mean? You might not get any points because of that," Neville protested.

"There are things more important than points. She vahs not vorth saving. The little Veela was innocent. When it became clear to me she vahs not coming, I rescued her," Krum growled. Harry privately wondered if he had a speech pattern that didn't involve growling.

Harry and Viktor stood eye to eye for another moment, before Krum spoke. "Ve are not all like her. Komm, ve must get our scores."

Harry looked at Neville who shrugged again and made a shooing motion for Harry to follow and so he found himself finally awaiting his scores from the panel.

"We have consulted and award points out of a possible score of fifty," Ludo Bagman's voice boomed out, magically amplified so that it made Harry's ears hurt. "Fleur Delacour, made excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, but failed to retrieve her hostage is awarded twenty-five points. Viktor Krum, for able human transfiguration and the retrieval of a hostage, though not his own is awarded thirty-seven points, and Harry Potter who is the clear and undisputed winner is awarded forty-four points." Harry thought he saw Bagman shoot a subtle glare at Karkaroff, but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure.

"You did vell," Krum acknowledged and then walked off.

"Harry!" Ron yelled, waving frantically as the crowd began to thin. "You bloody well won!" Ron exclaimed as he reached his friend.

"I noticed. Though Bagman looked unhappy about something."

"Who knows, Dad said he's a bit shady anyway. Come on, we're having a party in the common room!"

"Where's Ginny? I have to find Ginny," Harry insisted.

"She's sure to be there, I mean you did save her, right?" Ron grinned.

"Yeah, but I kind of wanted to talk to her alone."

"What for?" Ron demanded, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Just, you know, stuff… and stuff," Harry offered lamely.

"Your shoulder is fixed, yeah?"

"Sure, still hurts a bit, though," Harry confessed.

Ron grinned widely. "I think Fred and George have just the thing for that.

oOo

Harry tried to protest and find Ginny, he did. He tried to refuse the electrifying clear drink that someone pushed into his hand, but after the first sip, when lightning shot from his hair and toes the world seemed a little less important, and the more he drank the less important it seemed. He could find Ginny in a little bit, right?

"What is it?" Harry asked, finally, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Fred and George brought it."

"Right, but what is it?"

Fred took that moment to appear and throw his arms around both boys. "White Lightning, mates, White Lightning. Twice as potent as Ogden's, and it really livens up the party," Fred grinned as Lee Jordan took a sip and sparks began shooting from the tips of his dreadlocks.

"Where'd you get it?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Getting the good stuff is all about having the right connections, or in our case blackmailing a nice man into selling it to you," Fred grinned.

"What? I thought… I mean… won't you get in trouble?" Ron sputtered.

"You're sounding like Hermione," Harry muttered and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the ribs.

Fred only chuckled. "Relax brother. George and I took a bit of a stroll a few weeks ago and what should we see but a light in the forest. We followed it of course…"

"Oh, you found the metal alcohol pot?" Harry interrupted.

"How'd you know about the still?" Fred asked, shocked.

"He's been doing it for two years now, be a bit surprised if I didn't know. Who is he?"

"Aberforth. Runs the Hogs Head."

"So he sold you this White Lightning stuff?" Ron asked.

"Cash and carry, Ron," Fred confirmed.

"I've never heard of the stuff and Sebastian drinks more than most," Harry mused.

"Wouldn't think you would have. It's bloody well illegal from what I understand. The Yanks make it in their back yard, not sure where Aberforth learned how to make it. Whoa there, it packs a kick!" Fred cautioned as Harry took a rather large swig, his hair standing on end and emitting sparks the same as Lee Jordan's did.

"Good stuff!" Ron applauded. "It can't be that bad, there's hardly even any burn," he concluded, sampling his own cup.

"Mates, I can tell you right off, it's nearly two hundred proof and has a little pixie dust. It will get you before you know it."

Ron grinned defiantly, "I can handle it."

Fred shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

An hour later and both boys were studiously trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Wha' time is it?" Ron slurred, as he rocked back and forth unsteadily on his chair.

"Dunno, bu' I gotta fin' Gin," Harry responded. His conscience finally remembering what he needed to do. "Is too loud in 'ere." Harry gestured widely to the common room which was indeed a scene resplendent with chaos, noise and general teenage debauchery.

Multiple student pairs were snogging passionately, many fuelled by the clear, yet potent liquid supplied by the Weasley twins, and at least Clarke Franks and Samantha Kent looked to be well on their way to a great deal more than snogging if someone didn't dump a bucket of cold water over their heads.

Luna and several other Ravenclaws, along with the badger triplets were mingling and celebrating equally. Tonight had an air of conviviality. Harry, though, was having none of it now that his mission was reestablished. "Where's yer ister?" Harry asked again.

"Wha' choo want with her?" Ron glared suspiciously at his friend.

"Gonna ask her question."

"Oh, I dunno, ask Her-meow-meow," Ron advised.

Harry nodded, stood shakily, and wobbled his way towards a recognizable bushy head of hair. "Her-meow-meow, where's my Sparkplug?"

"Oh, bloody hell, Harry have you been drinking?"

"Uh-huh, Ron, too if you want ta snog 'im," Harry grinned suggestively at Hermione.

"Ron too? He promised me he wouldn't. Oh, I'm going to have to …" Hermione was interrupted by a firm hand on her arm and an uncharacteristically serious Harry.

"Where's m' Sparkplug?"

"She's in the Owlery, I think. Said something about having to send a letter. Now, could you please let go, you're hurting me," Hermione winced. In a flash, the offending hand was removed and instead she was embraced in a tight hug.

"Sorry, Her-meow-meow, didn' mean to hurt you. Now, I'm a goona get Ginny," Harry confided.

"Do be careful, you'll get caught."

"No one suspects the Kneazle," Harry winked and then made an unsteady exit out the portrait hole.

"Her-meow-meow, come have some! Harry gone missin' and Neville won' drink w' me!" Ron shouted over the din.

"Wait, what did you call me, Ron?" Hermione screeched as she marched across the room, having suddenly realised that both her friends revealed the dreaded nickname. "You promised!"

At the same time Ron was being read a variety of acts including one involving riots, Harry had found his way to the perch of the owls and on the floor sat a huddled Ginny. As Harry had forgotten to change into his natural four-legged form, he simply sat down beside her. The petite girl startled and then stared at her friend.

"How'd you find me?"

"Hermione," Harry shrugged.

"Figured she'd tell," Ginny groused. "Something I can do for you?"

"You ran off. Disappeared. Couldn' find yoo. Why you run off?"

"A girl has to think, Harry."

"Bout what? Scary part is over. No more lake, no more water. No more fishy fishes and fishy fish people fishing for fish. I love fish, you know that?"

Ginny giggled. "No, but I might have guessed."

"Not as much as I love you, of course, but I love fishy fishes."

"What did you say?" Ginny breathed.

"I love you more than fish."

"I thought it was the adrenaline talking, or the shock from the cold," Ginny mumbled more to herself than Harry. "You really meant what you said at the tent, didn't you?"

"Of course, you're my Sparkplug now." Harry grinned wildly. Ginny could only stare at the wide, glassy and guileless eyes. She was very glad Harry didn't seem to require an answer as she was quite sure she was incapable of giving one.

A million thoughts flashed through the girl's mind at that moment, but one thing seemed to stick out. Harry seemed like he'd wanted to kiss her in the tent, but they'd been interrupted. He was a little drunk, she thought, but he'd called her 'his Sparkplug'. That had to mean what she thought didn't it? She licked her lips nervously and closed her eyes, leaning in slowly like the heroines in the sappy novels her mum read. Her heart was pounding so loudly she couldn't see how Harry couldn't hear it. She'd only kissed one boy before and that had left something to be desired, if she was honest with herself. She's dreamed about kissing this boy for a long time, and now it could actually happen! Would it be sweet and tender or rough and steamy? Would there be fireworks, or just a sense of her world being so completely right that nothing else mattered. He hadn't even asked her out, not properly, at any rate, and would that make a difference? Would he think she took advantage of his drunken state? She'd kissed Michael a few times, but there hadn't been much there. It was her first kiss, sure, but she'd expected… more. Her heart hammered away in her chest, daring her to find out.

A loud belch startled her eyes back open and she looked to see her Paws leaning against the perch of a school owl.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ginny asked, concerned. Perhaps he'd misspoken earlier. Perhaps he'd realised she was nothing but the silly little girl holding onto a childhood fantasy like all those girls had been telling her for months now. She took a step toward him, but was firmly rebuffed.

"Stay o'er there, m-Sparkplug. I'm gonna be…" What precisely Harry was going to be Ginny didn't find out as at that moment he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor of the Owlery. Harry looked up after a few more moments of projectile vomiting, wiped his mouth on the back of his robes and grinned. "So, you wanna go out wi' me?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose at him and stepped forward to steady him. "Let's get you to bed and then we'll discuss it in the morning. I think you've had a bit too much to drink, Harry. Who knows, it may only be the Firewhisky talking."

Harry shook his head violently. "Was white lighnin, and it innt talking. I am, me, Harry and I'm asking if you wanna be my molly, Molly." Harry grinned as though he'd just made the funniest joke in the world. Ginny looked at him sceptically.

Was he really asking, or was this the liquor talking? In all her girlish daydream fantasies of being asked out by the perfect boy on the perfect date where they would share their first kiss together, which would turn out to be perfect, not one of them involved the boy being her former pet, now completely pissed and a drunken confession complete with projectile vomit. In her daydreams though, it was always Harry, and that, at least, hadn't changed.

"We'll talk about it in the morning. Now let's get you to bed."

"Best offer I've had all night," Harry crowed, and then he fainted dead away.

oOo

"Ughhh…" Harry moaned and blinked several times. The world swam into view, or what was left of it. His head was pounding and his tongue felt like sandpaper. He was warm, though and that was always good after a night spent in the company of owls in a castle tower. His pillow moved rhythmically up and down. As Harry carefully turned his head, he found himself tucked against the red fur of his human who was looking less that way and more the lioness of his four-legged, midnight fantasies.

He sat up slowly still massaging his head and vowing that whatever Ron had given him to drink last night, he wouldn't be imbibing again.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked, placing a tentative hand against Harry's back. He instinctively sunk back into it. She had changed so quickly, Harry hadn't even noticed.

"I'm fine, Sparkplug. Why are we in the Owlery?"

"Well, I think you passed out after you threw up. I don't know, though, I've never seen anyone pass out. It just seemed like a bad idea to try and drag you back to the tower, and I wasn't going to leave you, so I thought we might as well be comfortable."

"Which is why the fur coat, thoughtful of you," Harry smiled weakly. In truth, he was extremely pleased that she was so considerate, but between a sudden onset of nerves and the raging hangover a weak smile was the best he could muster.

"Are you feeling alright, then?" Ginny pressed.

Harry shook his head slowly. "No, not in the slightest. Last night seems like a bit of a blur and I think I might want to kill your brother, but I'll be better."

"What…" Ginny paused and bit her lip. Harry narrowed his eyes to look at her. She only bit her lip if she was nervous. "What do you remember from last night?"

"Ron got me pissed, I think I hacked off Hermione, I asked you out and I threw up right afterwards. Did I miss anything?"

"N-no," Ginny stammered, her face turning as red as her hair.

Harry stared thoughtfully for a moment. "You never did answer."

"Answer what?"

"Do you want to be my molly-friend?"

"Is that like a girlfriend, Mr Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Most assuredly, except a molly-friend is a bit more adventurous. You know, fighting spiders, killing bad toms, and rescuing distressed cars. Think you can handle it?"

Ginny grinned and launched herself at her new boyfriend. "Most assuredly. The only question is can you keep up, Harry?"

Harry grinned back and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lasted only briefly, before Ginny pulled away.

"First rule of this. No kissing after a bender until you've brushed your teeth."

"There are rules to this?" Harry asked bewildered.

"You taste like vomit, Paws," Ginny answered, plainly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Harry, it isn't a big deal. Let's get back to the tower. We can have our showers and then we'll see where the day goes." Ginny grinned at him, ducking down a little to meet his downcast eyes. She'd heard from several of her roommates that boys could be a little sensitive when it came to things like kissing and there was no way she was going to let this get off to a bad start. Finally, she had what she'd been looking for.

She just didn't know what kind of a ride she was in for.

_AN: UPDATE MAN strikes his strongest blow yet! Sparkplug is a great girl, no? The scene I think many of you have been waiting for. Now, full disclosure, I don't really do romance. At least not as a writer. I hope I don't mess it up too badly, but I ask your patience with this as it is a work in progress. Thank you to my Brit-Picker and my Beta both key members of TEAM UPDATE! Look for 16 in a few weeks. I hope to have it out by mid June. I'm sorry for the delay on that one, but it isn't coming easily. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing._


	16. Fire and Shadow

Ch 16.

"Morning, Sparkplug," Harry grinned as he kissed her lightly. Ginny grinned impishly and returned it a bit more forcefully.

"Didn't see you last night. How was detention?" Ginny asked. It had been three weeks since they'd become an item and even now it sent pleasant shivers up Harry's spine.

"Same, same. Nothing too ferocious."

"You think McGonagall would just give up on trying to make you behave. I mean, even Hermione has accepted you'll always be a wild kitty."

Harry raised one eyebrow as he followed her out of the portrait hole. "Wild kitty? I've punched Malfoy for less than that."

"Yes, but I'm your molly. I'm supposed to challenge you, aren't I? Or do you want a sable furred, meek, house pet?"

Harry laughed as he threw an arm around her. "Never."

As they sauntered into breakfast, hand in hand, Ron glowered at them briefly. "Just because you're going out doesn't mean you need to be glomping all over each other," Ron huffed.

"Ron, you're going to have to get used to it," Ginny huffed, glaring at her older brother.

Ron shrugged in response. "Well it's not like I want him to chuck you, so I suppose so."

Harry smiled, and remembered the first day that he and Ginny had been officially an 'item'. Fred and George had both loudly announced that should any sadness be the result of Harry's actions he would find himself missing some very important anatomy. Seamus had announced that despite her lack of tits she was in fact a bit of alright and he couldn't say anything more on the subject.

Dean and Neville both congratulated him and Hermione asked very seriously if he knew what he was doing. When Harry replied 'not in the slightest, but I hope to figure it out,' he narrowly avoided a stern lecture about matters of the heart when Ron, his face inscrutable, grabbed his arm and dragged him outside.

He'd been prepared for a very personal round of threats and should anything happen to her, but all he got was one simple request. "Be good to her, please," Ron asked. His voice was flat as day old beer but his eyes never wavered from Harry's.

"Of course. I'd die for her, you know that."

Ron smiled a little, and shrugged. "I know, I just wanted to make sure you knew. I can't ask any more."

"That cow!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, from behind her copy of _The Daily Prophet_. The noise brought Harry back to the present and out of memory lane.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked as he craned his neck around to try to see the text on the page.

"That bloody Rita Skeeter is writing all sorts of rubbish. First, it was that ridiculous piece about Harry and the Tournament, then Hagrid, now it's back to Harry, but it's complete and utter nonsense! She's writing as though this whole school is one step short of a knocking shop."

"Oh do tell," Ginny giggled as she leaned in a little closer to Harry and he put his arm around her.

"Apparently, I am your long-time girlfriend, whom you dumped for a younger model. Makes it sound as though you've gone with half the girls in the school. She makes a few veiled references about why you chucked me and talks about… oh, that's ridiculous! I can't believe, I mean we can't even brew a love potion!"

"What?" Ron and Harry both exclaimed simultaneously.

"And I quote, 'while the Chosen One's chosen one, until recently, may never turn heads, she certainly seems to be a girl with her head on straight. The question this reporter has is that with the propensity of Mr Potter to change women, is it merely teenage hormones or has Headmaster Dumbledore been turning a blind eye to love potions once again?'"

"So I used a love potion to get Harry?" Ginny demanded.

"It doesn't exactly say that. One could think that Harry used one on you. It would fit with her whole hormone-obsessed loon angle."

"Bloody ridiculous. I'm a damn good mouser," Ginny giggled and kissed her boyfriend's cheek lightly.

"Are you two going to get to snogging every time she writes something nasty about you?" Ron asked patiently.

"Likely," both answered simultaneously and they kissed lightly again, causing Ron to groan and his head to hit the table.

"I'm going to have to kill her, I think."

"What on earth are you on about?" Hermione demanded.

"If every time this tart writes something about my best mate, he and my sister start checking each other's tonsils for infection, there's nothing else to do but kill her, don't you think?"

"You're bloody ridiculous," Hermione huffed and went back to reading the newspaper with small 'harumphs' and other disgusted noises coming from behind its black and white pages.

"We've class in a few minutes," Neville observed. "Potions again."

"Misery loves company," Ron muttered.

As the Gryffindors stood, Harry and Ginny took an extra moment to work out when they could next see one another.

"Blimey, you'd think he was about to go on a round the world trip," Ron muttered as he waited for his friend.

"It's new love, Ron, don't be so hard on it," Hermione scolded, though with little heat. "Though we're going to be late if he doesn't hurry up and snog her so we can get going."

Ron's head whipped around to face his friend so quickly that Hermione could have sworn she heard the bones in his neck snap. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?" Ron demanded.

Hermione shrugged and gave Ron a wry grin. "I'm not just books and cleverness, you know. There's a spirit under here as well, and it won't be tamed."

"Wouldn't mind seeing what else is under there," Ron muttered to himself, and then clamped his hand over his mouth as his face turned rapidly toward the colour of his hair.

"Are you alright, Ron?" Hermione asked, seriously. Ron nodded.

"Must've eaten something funny." With that, he hobbled as quickly as he could out of the hall, praying with all his might that his external monologue was as indecipherable as his internal one. Otherwise, he suspected, that he was going to be in for a rough time of it when Hermione realised the implications of what he said. Not that there was anything to it, of course. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but having just gotten out of a bad relationship he was in no hurry to get back into one. Not that Helene and Hermione had anything in common apart from the first letter of their names.

As Ron rushed towards the dungeons, Hermione stayed behind for just another second, allowing herself a small blush and a smirk.

oOo

The next few months were glorious and Harry couldn't remember being happier. The third task seemed ages away, his Sparkplug was officially his, and even the Unicorns had stopped teasing him. Not even the spiteful things that Rita Skeeter printed had really bothered him. However, Hermione had vowed vengeance after one particularly cruel article.

"Freedom, Paws, can't you taste it?" Ginny asked as they headed out to the grounds. It was a beautiful May evening, and Harry understood what she meant. The grounds were alive once again and the tendrils of spring were exploding where they once creeped. Harry merely smiled and followed his molly. "Have you found out what the Third Task is going to be?" Ginny asked with a casual air that Harry spied through immediately.

"I'm not really worried about it, Sparkplug. After all, even if I don't win, I got what I was playing for, didn't I?"

Ginny nodded and in an uncharacteristic show of insecurity wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. "Don't want you to compete at all. Still scares me," she muttered.

Harry placed his hand under her chin and gently raised her head to meet his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere and it isn't likely that they'll take you again, so what do I have to worry about? I'm fast, smart and the best damn mouser in England. What do I have to be afraid of?"

Ginny smiled. "You're right. I suppose it could be worse. We aren't still getting hate mail, right?"

"What's this we stuff? I was getting congratulatory letters from blokes I've never even met asking me how I manage to shag so many witches."

"We've never shagged!" Ginny squeaked, outrage colouring her voice.

"I know that, but it seems that the Boy-Who-Lived is apparently as randy as a house cat."

"And Kneazles aren't randy?" Ginny quirked one eyebrow.

"Only once we've chosen a mate."

"That bloody Rita Skeeter," Ginny growled. "I hope I meet her in a dark alley one day."

"It's over, Ginny. We got a few nasty letters and we threw the rest in the fire. Who cares what a bunch of mindless mice think anyway?"

"You didn't see what they were writing!" Ginny huffed.

"I saw a couple. Who cares? It isn't like they know us and none of what that cow printed was true anyway."

"Yeah, I guess so, but it's just so rotten!"

"People are like that. We learn to accept that early. Not every pair of hands is friendly."

"When do you have to be down at the pitch?" Ginny asked, hastily changing the subject.

"Half past eight is what McGiggles said."

"We have half an hour then, don't we? Whatever shall we do?" Ginny grinned ferociously and stood on her tiptoes, reaching her face towards Harry. He swallowed and began to meet her, when she pulled away suddenly and poked him in the stomach.

"TAG!" Ginny yelled and in half a second a red lioness was bounding across the field towards the Forbidden Forest.

Harry growled and began to chase after her, his own smaller four-legged form outclassed in a straight run, but with the way she was heading towards the forest… Isis, she was beautiful. Even the Pride had taken their relationship with good grace, though he suspected several other toms were heartbroken over the matter. Trying to explain the concept of dating though was tough.

Their game of tag lasted a few minutes too long and it was reflected in the annoyed looks all the parties gave when Harry managed to saunter onto the Quidditch pitch, though it was hardly recognizable. The ordinarily open stadium was filled now with long, low hedges crisscrossed all across the field.

"Mr Potter, so nice of you to join us," Ludo Bagman announced. "As I was just telling your competition, the Third Task is relatively straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of this maze and the first person to touch it will receive full marks. There will be obstacles, certainly, but nothing I'm sure any of you can't overcome," Bagman chuckled weakly. "Now, are there any questions?"

"When is it again?" Harry asked.

"One month, Mr Potter," McGonagall interjected, tersely, obviously annoyed at her student's tardiness.

"Any other questions?" Bagman continued. Harry raised his hand again. "Yes, my boy?"

"Where do babies come from?" Harry asked. His tone was innocent enough, but even to the casual observer mischief was in his eyes.

"Mr Potter…" McGonagall's lecture was forestalled by an earth shattering roar.

"Ginny," Harry breathed. They'd worked out various codes to alert each other of sudden situations over the summer, and there was only one thing that particular roar meant, immediate danger. Harry took off at a sprint towards where he suspected his mollyfriend to be, cursing his two legs the whole way.

Precious minutes later, Harry finally made it to the tree line and quick as a wink he was on four legs, his head held high sniffing for his lady's scent. 'Ginny, I'm coming!' he mewed. He found her easily enough, and was relieved that she was unhurt and in her own four legged form.

'Harry, what the hell is going on!' Ginny exclaimed, her red fur bristling as she stared at the dirty and dishevelled figure standing a few paces away and he seemed to be having an animated conversation with a tree. 'That's Percy's boss, Mr Crouch, but why is he here? Percy has been saying he's been sick, hasn't he? He's been babbling to himself the whole time and none of it makes any sense. What's going on?'

'No idea, Sparkplug. I'm going to go talk to him, though. We're going to need some help. Can you get Angelina?'

'Daddy's car? How's she going to help?'

'We're going to have to get him to Madam Pomfrey and I can't carry him. We can ask Angelina if she'll help.'

'Where's Sirius, wouldn't he be better?'

'He's in Hogsmeade and there certainly isn't time for that. I don't want him around right now, anyway; they'd likely say he was the one who did this.'

Ginny nodded twice. 'I'm on my way… how do I find her?'

'Smell the oil?'

'A little.'

'Follow while it gets stronger. Your nose is better in this form.' Ginny nodded again and took off.

Harry resumed his two-legged form once more and carefully approached the babbling man. "Have to stop him… shouldn't have gotten him out. Dumbledore, must see… Dumbledore," Crouch wailed. Harry approached the man slowly, his wand at the ready.

"Mr Crouch, what's the matter?" Harry called, inching slowly forward.

"Who's there? Margaret, is that you?"

"It's Harry Potter, Mr Crouch. Do you know where you are?"

"Of course, must tell Weatherby to finish those reports. I should be off early tonight. My wife and I are attending the opera." Crouch was talking animatedly to a tree paying no attention to Harry whatsoever.

"Mr Crouch?" Harry queried finally sliding close enough to put his hand gently on the man's shoulder. Bartholomew Crouch Sr. spun rapidly and grabbed Harry's arm.

As this was an unexpected reaction from the craze man, Harry reacted appropriately. "_Stupefy!"_ he cried, and the elder man dropped limply to the ground. "Well… shite," Harry cursed, wondering what he should do now.

BEEP! BEEP! Came the loud horn of the only car Harry had ever cared much for on a personal level.

"Just in time, Paws! This tracking by scent thing was easier than I thought," Ginny said as the car skidded to a stop, her head poking out the passenger side window. "What did you do to him?"

"He grabbed me," Harry defended himself.

"He's not dead is he?"

"I don't think so," Harry shrugged. "I only Stunned him."

"Well then he's not dead. Do you think we should put him in the back seat?"

HONK! The loud, long wail of the wild Ford's horn let them know that no stranger was getting into her back seat under any circumstances.

"Can you explain to Angelina that we really need to get this bloke up to the castle?" Harry asked.

"Why me?" Ginny demanded.

"You got her here. So it's your responsibility."

"Fine," Ginny muttered and then turned to the battered car. "Miss Ford, would you kindly help us transport this man to the gates of Hogwarts? It is terribly important," Ginny asked in her most polite voice.

The car flashed its headlights once and the boot popped open.

"In there?" Harry asked. Angelina honked once more briefly.

"Bloody hell," Ginny groaned as she helped lift Barty Crouch into the boot. The man was skinny, even for his age and build which helped, but not much.

"Can you take him to the castle?" Harry asked. The wild Ford flashed her lights and turned a tight circle, now facing the stone structure in the distance. Harry smiled and gently rubbed the left headlight. "Thanks, girl."

"Harry, duck!" Ginny shrieked, her small form tackling him to the forest floor. A sickly yellow jet of light struck Angelina's back end and the gas tank erupted into flames.

"HONK! HONK! BEEP, BEEP!" She wailed her driveshaft spinning uselessly in the dirt as it had dropped to the ground.

"_Aguamenti!"_ Both students cried, dousing the back end of the car with jets of water. The fire lessened, but another jet of light exploded the canopy just above their heads.

"We've got to get out of here!" Harry cried.

"We can't leave him," Ginny argued. "Paws, we have to do something," she pleaded. "Say something," she demanded. Harry's voice wasn't working, however, and all he seemed to manage was a shaky finger pointed at something not yet seen behind her. Ginny turned slowly, and suddenly running and not talking seemed like a very good idea.

A monstrous wall of flame was consuming its way through the underbrush. Forms of chimeras, dragons and gorgons were being formed and then rapidly replaced by different more horrifying shapes. They marched steadily forward, their raw ferocity being hemmed in by an unseen force. Without words, both teens stood and ran, Harry transforming first, and Ginny only a moment later. Both were so terrified that Harry didn't even bother to complain when he was picked up by the scruff and carried the second half of the way to the castle. Both managing to regain their sensibilities long enough to transform back. Which was fortunate as the castle doors opened a few seconds later. Both children lay on the grass panting from terror and the exhaustion of a run. Even with four legs the exertion was not inconsequential.

"'Allo, Professor Snape," Harry grumbled, waving his hand without opening his eyes.

"Harry, you don't… Oh, hello, Professors, including Snape," Ginny answered, opening her eyes, and then she turned to her boyfriend, who still had his eyes shut. "How did you know he was there? I mean there are four or five of them."

Harry shrugged. "He's always around when I'm in a potentially compromising situation. I think it's a gift. Kind of like that billowing thing he does with his robes."

"Mr Potter, would you care to accompany me to my office?" Dumbledore asked, his voice was unusually grave.

"Right, Professor… Shite!" Harry exclaimed, ignoring several teacher's admonishments to watch his language. "Professor, Barty Crouch is down there! We were going to bring him up to the school, but then Angelina got hit and this big fire wall thing came at us, and it was alive! You have to go check. I think Angelina will be ok, I mean she's made out of metal, but Mr Crouch isn't and even if he is a wanker

I don't think he should be roasted alive." Seeing nothing further to add, Ginny nodded in forceful agreement.

"Professors?" Dumbledore nodded at Flitwick and Snape who inclined both their heads and immediately set out at a brisk walk towards the now burned out portion of the forest.

"If you both would follow me, please?" Dumbledore asked, politely, but failing to mask the steel in his voice completely.

"Yes, Professor," both students answered as they rose and followed the Headmaster silently to his study, holding hands for mutual comfort. Something they both needed now that the initial terror finally wore off.

"Please be seated. I need you both to be as calm as possible and explain to me what happened in the forest."

"Please Professor, it wasn't our fault!" Ginny cried.

Harry squeezed her hand gently. "I'm sure he doesn't think so," Harry assured her.

"Indeed not, Miss Weasley, what I am curious to find out, though, is why Mr Crouch would be wandering about our school grounds, when my sources tell me he's been quite ill for some time."

"Well, Harry and I were mucking about in the forest, just the edge mind you, and then Harry had to go see what the Third Task was. So I waited for him to come back and then Mr Crouch just walks out of the dark and starts rambling on. Sometimes it made sense, he wanted to see you, and other times he was talking to a tree about his family."

"Then I showed up and Ginny fetched Angelina and we put him in the boot."

"May I ask why you did that?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Because she wouldn't let us put him in the back seat; Angelina is a very proper sort of car, Professor. Then when we went to get in the front so she could drive us all up to the Castle, someone hexed Angelina and set the forest on fire!" Harry finished.

"You said originally that the fire was alive," Dumbledore frowned.

"It looked like all sorts of horrible things," Ginny allowed. "Chimeras, and nundus and giant snakes and who knows what else."

"Fiendfyre," Dumbledore muttered. "If that's what it was, things are worse off than I anticipated. Are you sure you didn't simply imagine in your fright? I do not mean to impugn your courage or your memories, dear children, but I must be positively sure."

"It looked as though it came straight from Fenrir's mouth," Harry stated with certainty.

"Who?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fenrir, the left hand of Sirius. He breathes fire that destroys dens and evaporates milk. He's supposed to be a horrific creature, though I'm not sure if he's real," Harry confided as an afterthought. "Seems too fantastical."

A grim smile played on the Headmaster's lips for a brief second, very out of place on the normally benign face. "Some legends have a bit more bite than we'd like to imagine, Mr Potter. Professors, what can you tell me?"

"It was Fiendfyre, Albus," The gruff voice of Alastor Moody.

"Ah, Alastor, I didn't realise you were there."

"I was investigating an odd happening in the Greenhouses when I saw the fire. These two seemed right enough, so I went to investigate," the Auror replied, jerking his thumb at Harry and Ginny.

"He's right, Headmaster, I've only seen it twice, but it had all the signs."

"How did you extinguish it?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was already out when we arrived," Professor Snape contributed. "There were no signs of Crouch."

"Which leads me to ask, who could have the control to cast and extinguish Fiendfyre? There are only a few who know how, and most of them are in this room," Moody growled.

"Are you suggesting that a Hogwarts Professor attempted to murder two students and a ministry official?" McGonagall demanded.

"I'm not suggesting anything, Professor, but the facts speak for themselves. A high level of magical control is needed for this sort of thing, especially in dark magic. You can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds and with as fast as it appeared that means someone nearby must have cast it. Not everyone who could cast it is from Hogwarts, are they?"

"Alastor, I think we will let that line of thought rest for the moment," Dumbledore observed. "In the meantime, I think it best if you would please escort your students back to their dormitory, Minerva. To be sure they don't wind up lost in the Forbidden Forest," a hint of a smile finally returned to the Headmaster's lips.

McGonagall nodded once and ushered her wayward Gryffindors out of the office. As they reached the entrance to the tower, Harry finally asked the question that had been on his mind since Snape had mentioned that there was no sign of Crouch. "Cousin, Angelina didn't make it did she?"

"Angelina?"

"The car," Ginny clarified.

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, no. The frame was twisted from the heat and very little that wasn't steel remained."

Harry nodded once and climbed through the hole.

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said and then followed her boyfriend.

The common room was deserted, and only a small amount of light from the partial moon illuminated the room.

"Where is everyone?" Ginny whispered. Harry only shrugged and leaned back against the foot of the sofa, his knees pulled up to his chest. "What's wrong, Paws?"

Harry stayed silent for a minute or two, and then whispered so low Ginny had to strain to hear him. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"I keep losing friends. So many Kneazles, now Angelina, and who knows who's next?"

"You always said death is a part of life, Harry. They've gone on to the next great adventure. You can't blame yourself, even for Angelina. She was a car, and I doubt she was really happy in the forest. She should have been on the open road, outrunning the please-men," Ginny reassured him.

Harry turned rapidly and gripped her shoulders with a ferocity that startled the young witch. "What if the next one is you? I'm not strong enough to bear that, Ginny."

"Harry, nothing is going to happen to me. You're watching out for me and I'm no slouch," Ginny reassured him.

"I almost lost you last year. That was torture then, I don't know what I'd do now," Harry admitted softly, wiping his hand across his eyes.

Ginny stared at her boyfriend for a moment and then did the only thing that seemed natural. She launched herself at him and planted her lips firmly to his. Pulling back after several searing seconds, she held his face in her hands and stared straight into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Paws. I love you, and not Merlin, Voldemort, or Isis herself is going to take me away without one hell of a fight. I just found this, no one is taking it away." She finished her impassioned speech with another soft kiss and then she rose to her feet. "Seems like everyone else had an early night. I think I might turn in too."

With that, the real Lioness of Gryffindor left her Kneazle stunned, speechless and mesmerized as he stared at the swaying of her hips ascending the stairs.

oOo

"Neville, we really need to get someone else," Harry fretted as he helped his friend to his feet once more, but Neville shook his head.

"Not a chance, mate. Ron might hurt himself permanently, Hermione won't likely let you practice on her and you're no use at all if Ginny's in the picture. Besides, after you've learned all of this you can teach the rest of us. With the way things have been going I'm not hopeful Mad-Eye will be back for another year."

Sirius let loose a barking laugh and shook his unkempt head. "I like your friends, Harry. Especially that pretty little red-head who's been eyeing you. Is there something going on?" Sirius voice dropped to a whisper as he gave a leering grin.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "We're going out. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," Sirius' grin became wider yet and he slapped his godson on the back. "Your dad, your human dad that is, would be proud of you. Now, it looks like you have the Stunning spell down well and the other half dozen or so should serve you well. We're going to keep practicing those for the few weeks and maybe add in one or two more. Dumbledore said you managed a Patronus."

"You're talking to Dumbledore?" Harry and Neville asked surprised.

"Who do you think recommended this mountain getaway?" Sirius responded, gesturing to the craggy overhang in which they were currently sheltered. "I told him I was coming back when I heard you'd made Hogwarts Champion. He just helped me with a few of the logistics."

"That's nice, but I would have thought you'd want someplace better than a draughty cave," Ginny commented from her perch on a boulder a few feet away.

"It is surprisingly warm with a fur coat on."

"Bloody hell, I wish I could be an Animagus," Neville lamented. "Seems like it runs in the family."

"Don't forget to use that when you get in the Maze," Sirius commented. "Not like I think you will, but sense doesn't always prevail when you're trying to win."

Harry grinned softly. "I'm not trying to win. Bugger the tournament, I got what I entered for." Harry cast a glance back to his girl still perched on a rock.

"Wait… you entered this bloody thing, risking life and limb, my sanity and the reputation of Hogwarts to impress a girl?"

"Mum said I should do something extraordinary to get her attention," Harry defended. Sirius only groaned. "Are you going to show up?"

"Even I wasn't that thick, Harry, and I chased my fair share. And I think Padfoot might make an appearance. Can't have my favourite Godson risking life and limb to woo fair maiden without a bit of support."

"She's not just a girl, Mr Black, she's a Sparkplug. Are we done here tonight? It's a bit late, and I need to practice what Sebastian has been teaching me as well."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "Go on. How is old Prewett the Pyro doing anyway? Told him about your little run in a few weeks ago?"

"No, I thought I'd tell him when I get back this summer, like I always do. I didn't want to worry him about someone new trying to kill me." Harry admitted.

"I don't think he'd be terribly interested in Fiendfyre," Ginny pointed out.

"He'd be especially interested in Fiendfyre, Miss Weasley. Didn't Dumbledore explain how dark that stuff is?"

"Not exactly. He didn't tell us much about it at all," Ginny admitted.

"While Fiendfyre isn't an Unforgiveable, it is certainly one of the darkest curses known to man. It conjures sentient fire, for a time, anyway. The caster can bend its will to their will. Ask your Uncle about it, he can tell you all the stories," Sirius winked.

"I don't understand," Ginny replied, her confused expression matching Harry's. Sirius' face immediately changed from a playful smirk to that of dread.

"He hasn't told you, has he?"

"Told us what?" Harry asked, but Sirius seemed disinclined to discuss the matter further as he shooed the students back toward their castle.

"Bloody hell, he made a fuss about that," Harry muttered.

"It is a pretty big deal, Paws," Ginny pointed out. "I mean someone did try to kill us and likely killed Mr Crouch and Angelina, too."

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, Sparkplug. What's a starched robed old man got into to get himself killed over?"

"Well someone wanted him dead, Harry," Neville chimed in as he slowly rubbed the sore muscles caused from repeated landings on the ground as he was being used for spell practice.

"It just doesn't make sense. Maybe they were trying to kill me?"

"Why would they do that?" Ginny exploded, the colour draining from her face as she considered the possibility.

"It does seem to be a recurring theme in my life, that's all. Bloody hell, I'm glad I didn't tell him about that nightmare I had last week."

"What nightmare?" Ginny demanded, again.

"Well, I dozd off in Muggle Studies, with it being so warm and all, and I had the strangest dream. I was an owl, or maybe a snake, I don't know. Anyway, I was this owl-snake and we were with Voldemort who was with that sexing Lestrange bastard," Harry growled and unknowingly began pantomiming digging his claws into a soft, squishy body.

"Harry, focus, the dream," Ginny ordered, snapping her boyfriend back to reality.

"Anyway, Voldemort was there and he was talking to Lestrange, but it wasn't really Lestrange, because both his arms were these silvery hands, and I left him considerably less qualified, but he and Lestrange were talking and he told Lestrange that 'his idea had been a bad one. He should have anticipated the complication.'"

"What did he do?" Neville breathed.

"Lestrange bowed and said that he was willing to take his lord's punishment, but Voldemort said that wouldn't be necessary as the mistake had been rectified," Harry giggled a little bit at the end.

"What's so funny?" Neville asked.

"Rectified, sounds a bit anal, doesn't it?"

Ginny and Neville both giggled before shaking their heads.

"You're sick, Harry, but what happened to Lestrange?"

"That was the odd part. Voldemort said that his mistake had been recti… fixed, but that even so, failure of judgement carries certain consequences. He used the Cruciatus Curse and then I woke up with the most wicked headache. Well, scar-ache I suppose as it wasn't my whole head, just where the scar was. Kind of like that weird dream I had in the summer, but I didn't eat anything strange this time." Harry shrugged. "Oh well, beats me."

"Harry, you have to tell Dumbledore about this, or Uncle S, or someone! This could be something really big. How do you know it's just a dream? What if you're a… a… seer or something? What if you're peeking into his mind?"

"That's pretty farfetched, don't you think, Sparkplug?" Harry asked, sceptically.

"No, mate, it could happen," Neville disagreed. "At the very least we should tell Dumbledore. He'd know what to do, don't you think?"

"I suppose, I mean, even Uncle S likes him," Harry reasoned.

"Speaking of Uncle Sebastian, what do you think Sirius meant about Fiendfyre?"

"About it being dark magic?"

"No, about Uncle S knowing all about it?"

"Well, he was an Auror. That's got to give him some idea, don't you think?" Harry reasoned.

"He was an Auror? That's sexing amazing. I didn't know that," Ginny gushed. "I bet he knew Professor Moody."

"Well, Sebastian made it seem like they don't get on at all," Harry mused.

"Not to interrupt, but who are we talking about?" Neville asked as they slipped into the castle, voices hushed as it was well past curfew.

"My Uncle Sebastian, it's who Harry lives with during the summer," Ginny whispered.

"Ohh… and he was an Auror, that's so wicked. I wonder if he knew my parents?"

"I can ask," Harry offered, but Neville merely shook his head.

'THUNK!' the sound of hardwood hitting the cold stone floor caused all three students to turn around sharply. None other than Professor Alastor Moody stood staring at them an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Students oughtn't to be wandering the corridors, you know. Especially you three. Nasty things are out there," Moody growled.

"We've seen our fair share," Ginny defended. "And we're sorry for being out after curfew, Professor. Just helping Harry prepare for the Third Task."

Moody nodded once. "You oughtn't to stray too far. Nasty business afoot. It would take a wizard of incredible power and lethality to cast the spells they did at you. No sense in giving them an opening."

"That's what Sebastian says, too," Harry muttered mulishly.

"Sebastian Prewett?" Moody's non-magical eye flicked to Ginny for a split second. "You know Sebastian Prewett?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Harry responded calmly. There was an air about their professor that seemed odd when he recognised the name, and it was most unsettling.

"He's a hard man, Sebastian Prewett. Hard and handy with a curse. You could do worse than to learn from him." Moody nodded once and then strode in the opposite direction, leaving the three Gryffindors alone with their very confused thoughts.

"We better get back to the tower?" Neville suggested.

"Do you reckon Dumbledore would be up?" Ginny asked.

"Why?"

"Because, Harry, you need to tell him about your vision."

"Dream."

"Whatever, but you need to tell him," Ginny insisted.

"You're going to keep bothering me about this until I do it aren't you?" Harry asked, petulantly.

Ginny nodded and grinned. "I get what I want."

"Fine," Harry conceded. "Let's go."

"Now?" both Neville and Ginny asked.

"You suggested it, and it's only a bit after ten. I'm sure even Dumbledore stays up late once in a while."

Ginny shrugged, but Neville opted to return to the sanctuary of Gryffindor Tower. "If he's gone to bed already, Harry, I doubt even the Boy-Who-Lived would escape a million detentions."

"Coward," Ginny joked and then followed her man into the moonlit gloom of Hogwarts' expansive stone corridors.

"I can't believe Cockroach Clusters was the password!" Ginny hissed as the climbed the stairs towards the Headmaster's office.

"I can't believe you guessed it on the third try."

As they reached the closed door both Harry and Ginny knocked simultaneously, beating a nervously fast tempo on the thick wooden door. "I'm starting to think this was a bad idea after all, Paws," Ginny whispered.

"Do come in," the clear voice of Albus Dumbledore rang through the stout oak. Entering the now familiar study Ginny and Harry saw that the Headmaster was sitting in his usual chair but wearing an awful set of polka-dot pyjamas. "Children what may I do for you this late evening?" His smile was wide and pleasant as he sipped a cup of tea.

"We're not bothering you are we, Professor?" Ginny asked.

"Not at all, my dear. I find that often if I can't sleep the reason becomes apparent and tonight I have been proven right once again. I sometimes think that the Castle will harden my bed for just such an occasion, though I can't prove it of course." The blue eyes danced merrily behind his half-mood spectacles as though they were laughing at a very inside joke.

"Well, Professor, Ginny insisted that I tell you about this strange dream I had."

"I find that dreams can often import a great deal more than we realise."

Harry nodded and then began. "I was asleep in Muggle Studies, not that I do that often, mind you, but there I was and all of a sudden I find I'm a bird or a snake or perhaps a bit of both, but I'm at Voldemort's side and he's kind of angry with that Lestrange rotter…"

_AN: There we are folks. I hope to have seventeen out a bit sooner and thank you so much for being patient with me. It means so much. You are each and every one wonderful. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters as we wrap up year four and the 'GOBLET OF TREATS' or fire, you know, whichever. Sebastian's past will finally be revealed and we'll discover who's behind it all! I'm sorry about the loss of my favourite autonomous automobile, but she was a casualty of an ever increasing body count. Soon, we'll have the Third Task and all the fun that comes with it._


	17. Victory and Defeat

"She's taken a bit of a dislike to you, hasn't she?" Ron laughed as he read the latest piece by Rita Skeeter. "Disturbed and Dangerous… seems like she has you nearly pegged for knocking off You-Know-Who and then taking his place."

"That's an awful thought! I can't believe she'd write such nonsense," Hermione grumped. "I'd love to find out how she's doing it."

"Doing what?" Harry asked, around a mouthful of breakfast.

"Finding out about all of this. She wasn't around when Hagrid and Madame Maxime were talking and you only told us two days ago about your premonition."

"Dream," Harry corrected automatically.

"Harry, Dumbledore was concerned."

"Dumbledore is always concerned," Harry shrugged. "Besides, it isn't like what she writes matters. I don't need to pay any attention to it and why would you?"

"It's still awful," Neville agreed. "I wouldn't mind finding out how she does it either. Where's Ginny?" Neville concluded, changing the subject to the obvious lack of Harry's better half.

"Out with the Pride. Mum wanted some of the mollies to practice taking down a much bigger opponent."

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense."

The doors to the hall banged open with considerable force and Ginny, fully human much to Harry's surprise, sauntered in holding a large glass jar and surrounded by twelve of the fiercest toms the Pride had to offer. They walked with the air of an ancient hunting party having returned fresh from the kill. Ginny nodded politely to each staring pair of eyes, which grew exponentially when all twelve toms began to growl. The effect was akin to a large diesel motor revving.

"Morning, everyone," Ginny sang as she sat between Harry and Ron, planting an enthusiastic kiss on Harry's cheek.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, what did you do now?" Ron moaned.

"Oh stop it," Harry commanded as one of the toms hissed at Ron's tone.

'We're her honour guard, Harry. Can you believe she caught the woman all by herself?'

"Ginny, what did you catch?"

Ginny's grin only widened. "Hermione would you mind putting an Unbreakable Charm on the jar?" Ginny asked, as she held out the large glass jar she'd been carrying. Hermione, though unsure what precisely was happening, obliged.

"Stand down boys, she can't escape now," Ginny assured her feline protectors.

'We'll stand down after you've squished her,' Mopar mewed resolutely.

"You know she can't understand you, don't you?" Harry asked.

"Not entirely true, I've been picking up bits and pieces," Ginny assured her boyfriend.

"That's good, but who have you caught?"

"Can I tell you in a bit? I'm starving."

"You can, but McGonagall and Snape are headed this way," Harry acquiesced.

"Bloody hell," Ginny mumbled forking several sausages and stuffing them into her mouth in a manner Ron would be proud of.

"Miss Weasley, would you care to explain the zoo you have decided to grace us with this morning, or should we skip directly to detention and point deduction?" Snape sneered his eyes daring the young girl to cheek him. In the end it was Harry's quick reflexes that saved the greasy professor from a thorough mauling when Harry grabbed one of his adopted brother's by the scruff mid-lunge.

"No! We do not rend teachers limb from limb," Harry admonished the tortoise-shell Kneazle in his hand.

'Unhand me Harry! He threatened your molly and a pride sister. He shall not escape our wrath,' Carver insisted.

"Carver, there isn't anything he can really do to her anyway, and spilling blood over a petty insult is silly. The git isn't worth your time. I'll deal with it later, but you and the rest of the toms have to keep your claws civil."

"Potter!" Snape barked as snickers became audible. Harry shot his least favourite professor an annoyed look.

"Professor, I'm currently attempting to prevent close to five hundred pounds of feline death from descending on you, so if you don't mind, I'm sure Ginny will explain why they're here and what she was doing, and I'm sure it will be a very good reason. She doesn't do things without one and neither do they. If you're going to give me detention or dock points, or something equally useless could you please wait till I've the situation sorted? Now, you lot, over there!" Harry barked at the assembled furry mass, gesturing.

Silence had descended on the assembled breakfast goers, as they stared at him in shock. No one, living at least, had ever spoken to the professor in such a manner. The sombre mood was broken when a snort turned into a guffaw and everyone looked up to see Moody laughing uproariously. It was a sight both rare and terrifying.

"Weasley!" Snape barked, his ire now directed upon the girl who had initiated the whole situation. "Two weeks detention and forty points from Gryffindor."

McGonagall gave her student a disappointed look, but Ginny couldn't care at the moment as she hugged the glass jar.

"Mr Potter, if you could please ask our guests to leave the rest of your classmates can return to breakfast. Quickly, please, we still have lessons this morning."

"Right! Back to the forest, the lot of you. I appreciate your help, but we can't just have you roaming the corridors," Harry loudly proclaimed. "Now line up. By twos if you will." More quietly he whispered, "Give 'em a show, lads. Show this lot how a real Pride of mousers acts." Several of the toms began purring involuntarily as they filed out two by two, tails erect, legs sauntering, whiskers out and eyes forward, the pride of Hogwarts and the bane of the rodent population. As the last pair exited, Harry shut the door gingerly and returned to his seat. Looking up he saw that Professor Snape was still staring at him, loathing clearly in his eyes.

"Something I can help you with, Professor?" Harry asked, reaching for a tin of tuna. (Tinned tuna had been making regular appearances as of late, and while the other houses refused to touch it, Harry had been over the moon about the Castle's new choice of culinary creations.)

"Mr Potter, while I appreciate your assistance with removing our guests in an orderly manner, speaking to a teacher in that manner simply cannot be tolerated. Therefore this Saturday you will have detention with me," McGonagall cut in before her associate had a chance to.

"Sorry Professor, I'd love to, really, but the Third Task is this Saturday and I'll be much too busy trying not to snuff it. How about a compromise? If I don't snuff it and Voldemort doesn't show up to try and off me, then I'll serve your detention."

Titters of laughter sprinkled themselves around the table, intermingled with gasps at the casual use of the Dark Lord's name. McGonagall's eyes narrowed and she nodded once. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr Potter." With that the old woman whirled away from the table and back to her own partially eaten breakfast.

Seamus looked over at him and said the only thing that came to mind. "You've got balls of solid rock, mate."

That evening, Harry along with Ron, Hermione and Neville finally found out what was in the jar.

"You what?" Hermione demanded.

"Caught her this morning. Had a bit of a chat with her. She's not being very cooperative yet. I don't think she knows quite who she's dealing with," Ginny sniffed disdainfully.

"Ginny, you can't just imprison someone," Hermione objected. "Even if she is terribly foul, awful, and with an awful sense of prose."

"She's breaking the law, Hermione," Ron pointed out. "I mean this is Rita Skeeter we're talking about. The bloody woman is an unregistered Animagus. She could go to Azkaban for that. Would you rather us turn her over to the DMLE?"

"I… it's just… what did you ask her to do?" Hermione faltered.

"Nothing much. She's not allowed to write anything for a year and she has to print retractions of all the awful things she's said about Harry. I think that's the sticking point."

"It's really Rita-bloody-Skeeter in the jar?" Ron asked once more. Ginny nodded with pride holding the glass out for her brother to see.

"You can even see the little markings around her face, like those horrible glasses she wears," Ginny confirmed.

Ron took the jar gently and gazed dispassionately at the captive within. "So that's how she found out all those nasty things about Hagrid?"

"And everyone else," Ginny confirmed.

"And this glass won't break, no matter what?" Ron asked staring intently at the jar in his hands.

"I cast an Unbreakable Charm on it," Hermione confirmed.

Ron nodded once. "Good." Then, without warning, he shook the container violently up and down, side to side causing the occupant to contact the sides repeatedly. "Take that you bloody troll! I hope my sister leaves you in there to rot! I'd step on you if it weren't so much trouble," Ron shouted, still shaking the jar as he did so.

Hermione and Ginny both pounced on him and managed to pry the jar from his hands.

"What on earth has gotten into you?" Hermione demanded.

Ron shrugged. "She's a cow," Ron muttered as he stood and stomped off without further explanation.

oOo

True to her word, Rita had not published anything even remotely offensive by the morning of the Third Task, though that was most likely because Ginny hadn't let her out of the jar yet.

As Harry sat down to breakfast, McGonagall approached and roughly informed him, "the champions are congregating in that room after breakfast."

"Any particular reason, Professor?"

"The families have been invited to watch the final task. It is a chance for you to greet them."

"I don't think you have to wait, mate," Ron grinned and pointed at Charlie and Sebastian who both were sauntering casually through the hall. Sebastian stopping several times to sample anything that looked good as he casually made his way over to their table.

"Charlie!" Ginny squealed, jumping up to run and give him a hug, the throng of onlookers be damned

"Mr Prewett, I thought I told you to wait with the rest of the families," McGonagall chided.

Sebastian only grinned. "Is that any way to greet the love of your life, you Scottish minx?"

McGonagall gaped and several students snickered a bit too loudly. "Mr Prewett, this is a school and none of your bawdy Auror changing room humour will be tolerated. If you can't handle that I suggest you leave. In fact I suggest you make your way to your niece and her family."

Sebastian winked. "Notice you're not throwing him out, Minnie," Sebastian chuckled as he pointed his thumb at Charlie.

"You leave me out of this, Uncle," Charlie warned.

"You're right; I suppose I'll have to wait for my favourite not-nephew to finish stuffing his face before I can wish him well. Still as gorgeous as ever Mo Chride," Sebastian winked, and sauntered off. Charlie following him close behind.

"Was Uncle S… _flirting_ with one of our professors?" Ginny gawked.

"There goes my hero," Seamus whispered.

"I think so. She's a bit old for him, isn't she?" Ron asked.

"At his age, still chasing tits," Seamus continued in a reverent voice.

"There's nothing wrong with an older woman," Hermione sniffed.

"Even if they are saggy and wrinkly. With everything she knows…" Seamus let the statement hang, just in case anyone was listening.

"Merlin knows I'm the last one to argue against it," Ron agreed, "but ten years or better is a bit much even for me."

"I wonder if he has any problem with…"

"Seamus!" Parvati and Lavender yelled at the same time, effectively silencing his hormone-fuelled monologue.

"Well, I'm off to see what the lecher wants," Harry interjected, standing and wiping his mouth on a napkin. "I better get in there before he comes back out and McGiggles loses her fur."

As Harry opened the door he was surprised to not only see Sebastian and Charlie, but Molly, Arthur, and Arabella as well. Hugs, congratulations and well wishes were heaped upon Harry until he nearly couldn't stand it. "It's great you all could come, though I don't know how much you're going to see. The maze is really high and I didn't see any Quidditch style seats," Harry admitted.

"It's alright, dear. We came to support you. A Champion shouldn't be without his cheering section," Molly replied. "Bill wanted to come but he's been so busy with work. They just promoted him to the head of his own team. I don't know how he does it," Molly tutted, worry and pride warring equally in her voice. Harry knew how, though he wouldn't dare tell Mum Weasley. The prototypes Fred and George had developed had given their brother quite the edge in a very competitive field.

"Come on, mate. Show us around the grounds," Charlie grinned. Harry and his entourage slowly made their way through the castle and sauntered around the grounds talking about everything, Arabella taking it all in.

"This is only my second time ever seeing the place," Arabella admitted. "I came once to see Sebastian and now you."

Molly and Arthur were quite happy to regale her with stories, long tucked away of their own years here that perhaps they hadn't felt comfortable telling her in their younger years. Sebastian and Charlie said less.

"So that's the infamous Whomping Willow?" Sebastian asked as he pointed to the distinctive tree.

"It isn't for show, either. Mashed Dad Weasley's car and my old broom," Harry agreed.

"Well let's go take a look!" Leaving the chattering group briefly as Charlie was suddenly distracted when a Unicorn appeared on the edge of the forest, Sebastian and Harry made their way as close to the tree as they dared and even Sebastian was impressed.

"That's a big one, alright. Was this where you were nearly killed a few days ago?" he inquired nonchalantly.

Harry startled, he wasn't expecting that. "No, uncle, that was on the other side. Who told you about that?"

"Dumbledore thought it prudent that I know. Curses and the murder of a top ministry official are something you ought to tell me, Harry."

"Mr Black said you'd be interested in Fiendfyre," Harry muttered.

"Who said anything about Fiendfyre?" Sebastian demanded, his tone suddenly grave.

"Dumbledore and the other professors thought that was what chased Ginny and me. It was fire with a wicked look to it. Dumbledore didn't mention that?" Harry asked, puzzled.

Sebastian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "No, I believe he left that part out."

They both stared at the tree for a few moments more. "Uncle, why don't you like Professor Moody? Does it have something to do with Fiendfyre?"

"The subject isn't open for discussion," Sebastian snapped. His tone was harsh and brooked no argument.

"He didn't seem to have a problem with you," Harry offered.

"What are you talking about? I assure you the feeling is mutual."

"No, he seemed to have a bit of… respect, really."

"Harry," Sebastian began, his tone softer this time, "I don't want to talk about it. I assure you that Alastor Moody has no love for me and less so for what I've done. Some day when you're older, perhaps I'll tell you, but not today. Now, let's rejoin the rest of the family. Wouldn't want them to miss their champion would we?"

Harry shook his head and wordlessly followed Sebastian back to the assembled group.

The next few hours were pleasant as they continued their self-guided tour, reminiscing of their own school days, conversation interspersed with current events.

Charlie had been considering trying for a job closer to home at a dragon hatchery in Wales, which would thrill his mother to no end, but he wasn't sure if the work would appeal as much.

Dad Weasley was still enjoying his cubby on the fourth floor of the Ministry, but both he and Molly were vexed by Percy's attitude, who was still being a git. Finally, nothing much had changed between Sebastian and Arabella. They still took afternoon tea, often covered in Kneazles and Mum finally had the kittens out of the den for a bit of exploring. "Cute as buttons, all three of them," Arabella confirmed, though Harry didn't need anyone to tell him that.

Hours whiled away and the whole time Charlie kept giving him the occasional odd look. Finally, when the rest of the group stopped to see the other three Weasley children, Harry asked him what was bothering him. "You're dating my baby sister," Charlie replied a little nervously.

"Yeah, so?"

"Just be good to her, and watch out for Bill. He hasn't been too fond of you recently."

"Is that why he didn't show up tonight?" Harry asked, a little hurt. Not that he necessarily liked Bill that much, either, but if he skipped a chance to see the rest of the family on his account, it wouldn't be right.

Charlie shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He's got Weasley stubbornness in spades. He'd be here if only to warn you off her. I'm just asking that you watch out for her. I'm not around to do it and I'm a bit fond of our half-pint."

Harry nodded once. "I gather you read that rubbish by Rita Skeeter?"

"Yeah, and lining owl perches was all it was good for. You must have made quite the impression on Mum, she only worried for an hour or two and dad was able to talk her down pretty quickly after that. She hasn't said a word about it since we've gotten here. I know Ginny can take care of herself, but an extra set of eyes never hurt. Right, now that's out of the way, I think dinner is up. I'm starved. No one makes dinner like the house elves here," Charlie exclaimed rubbing his hands together, the former serious matter now seemingly water under the bridge. Harry shrugged and followed. There was food to be had after all.

oOo

Harry stood in front of the maze entrance, the towering green monolithic shrubberies on either side. The announcer was saying something in the background, but it only dimly resonated and he paid it no attention. He had one more task to complete and win or lose, Ginny would be waiting on the other side. He wanted to win, of course, his naturally competitive instincts wouldn't let him do otherwise, but Ginny had given him specific instructions that he was to come out the other side in once piece or she would make him regret it

The points were read, and Harry was in the lead so it was with a two-minute head start that he charged into the maze. A left, a right, another right, Harry had no idea which way to go, instead he was letting his somewhat muted Kneazle instincts guide him at first. Huffing in frustration, Harry rounded another bend and made the change back to his natural form. Sights were sharper, smells were more defined and his reflexes were even better. As an added bonus, Harry was willing to bet that most of the denizens of the maze wouldn't look twice at an overly handsome Kneazle just out for an evening stroll.

Harry wound about for another two minutes through the maze, avoiding a boggart that didn't seem to realise he was there (it failed to change from its whispy orb shape), two Blast-Ended Skrewts that had grown significantly larger than the last time he'd seen them, and finally there was a very small Acromantula that was far too interested in him for his liking.

'Harry, what are you doing?' The disembodied voice of Constance came from somewhere above him, and when he looked up, both Constance and Abbot were lightly perched on the top of a wall of shrubbery.

'I'm trying to get to the centre of the maze and win the cup,' Harry growled. The confined spaces of the maze were beginning to wear on his nerves, as was the lack of very obvious danger. The few small challenges he'd faced didn't seem suitable for the type of challenge they'd made him believe this was supposed to be.

'Well, I don't know why you'd want to do that. Has to do with magic does it?' Constance let out a raucous whinny.

Harry sighed and nodded once, causing both thestrals to break out into peals of laughter. 'You're a bit old for that sort of thing now, aren't you?' Abbot chided him. 'Never mind. If you're looking for your shiny trinket it's just three shrubs that way,' he motioned spreading his wing out.

'Right, but how do I get there?' Harry growled.

'I'd fly, can you fly?' Constance asked.

'No. Not without help.'

'Well, we simply must help then, mustn't we?' Constance pointed out, but even Harry felt that might be cheating.

'I don't think I'm allowed to fly on this. I think I need to at least get there on my own,' Harry replied.

'Pity, what kind of place wouldn't let you fly?' Constance asked.

'Not one I'd want to be in. In the future you must be more careful in the types of things you enter, mustn't you little hu-kneazle?' Abbot admonished. 'One must always be allowed to stretch one's wings.'

'I'll keep that in mind. You said the cup was three shrubs that way?'

'Indeed, but we must be off, I believe our keeper is searching for us,' Constance explained.

'Why is Hagrid looking for you?'

'We escape and lead him on a bit of a chase now and again, until we get hungry and he catches us. Fortunately, we aren't hungry yet. Now we must be off,' Abbot said, spreading his wings as he did so.

'Good luck!' both thestrals cried as they took to the air and Harry wondered again why he felt his sudden need for 'fair play' let him refuse their offer for help. He knew the direction of the cup now, but how to get there?

He considered trying to scale the wall and walk on top. That certainly could be something a Kneazle would do, but he had the distinct impression it might not hold him. The branches were tightly woven, especially around eyelevel for a human, but they were a little thinner further down. A brief test confirmed that the green walls weren't as solid as perhaps the judges might hope and Harry pushed his way through the first one easily.

The second proved to take a minute or more, but he finally tumbled out the other side.

'I need to lose some weight,' Harry mewed to himself.

"I do believe you are perfectly proportioned for one of your size," came the response. Harry whirled and before him stood something straight out of Mother's bedtime stories.

'Praise Isis, you're a messenger,' Harry mewed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, and his ears pressing flat to the top of his head. To prevent offense and demonstrate his willing submission, Harry lay quickly on the ground and prostrated himself before the giant creature, eyes lowered and head between his paws. Even his tail stilled from its customary twitch.

"I assure you kitten, I am a Sphinx." Her large lion tail twitched impatiently. "Are you a Champion then? I have a very special riddle for you." Her human face smiled with anticipation. Harry remained rooted to the spot.

'Forgive me messenger of our lady, I failed to realise I would be meeting you today so I do not have a mouse to offer you. Please forgive my inequity in matters so grave as these.'

"What are you going on about? I'm no more a messenger of anything than you are kitten. I don't understand, how do you know the old myths if you're a champion?"

'Isis herself may test me, we have been taught to expect that, but you may tell her my faith in her goodness and mercy is planted more deeply than the roots of the oak. Please tell me, what is our lady's will?'

"You aren't one of them, though. There should be three champions and I think you're one, but you're babbling. Isis is no more real than any of the other bedtime stories. Now get up, I have a riddle for you," the Sphinx demanded.

Harry's eye raised slightly so that he was staring at the lion portion of the angelic being in front of him. Sphinxes only appeared to those with a destiny, a purpose appointed by Isis and watched over by Bast. They served Isis long before even Freyja, the first and most magical of all Kneazles, but Harry also knew he had to be careful. Sometimes Isis would send a messenger to eat a Kneazle who had profaned her name or consorted with Anubis. Was that why she was here now? Did his lady object to his dealing with Mr Black?

'I ask our lady to forgive me. Mr Black was a friend of my father's, please don't eat me,' Harry grovelled.

"Little one, what are you? I don't understand. You almost have the feel of a human, but you talk like one of those little four legged savages that run around eating mice. You are an enigma, a puzzle."

Harry sensed an opening, his hunting instincts guiding him. Perhaps this was only a test. Isis didn't want a mouse, she wanted him to prove his mind was worthy.

'I bring you this riddle of my own good will and as an offering to Bast and our lady. Forgive me of my inequities and of the mice I let escape. I ask that you take this gift and allow me to continue on.'

The sphinx for her part seemed to have stopped listening. "When is a boy not a boy but not a cat? When is a Champion on four legs? How can he know the ancient myths, yet be alive? Who is this black cat in front of me?" The sphinx puzzled out loud.

Harry cocked his head and stood gingerly. The messenger had turned his back to him and was continuing to spout nonsense out loud. 'May I go then?' When he received no response Harry shrugged and pushed himself through the last of the hedges, struggling to squeeze his large frame through a very small opening. After another minute or two, he stood in the clearing, the Tri-Wizard cup glistening in the fading light before him.

Harry was on two feet again, walking slowly towards it, on guard once again for any potential traps or dangers. Nothing... Harry felt almost disappointed when he finally closed the last feet between himself and the prize.

He stared at it for another minute, taking it in. "It's just another bloody cup," Harry muttered. "I can't believe I did all this for a cup. I should have curled up in the entrance and taken a nap. Ginny would be happy and I wouldn't have had to snag my fur through all that roughage. Sex me..."

Harry shrugged, reached forward and grabbed the cup. Instantly, Harry felt a jerk behind his navel, and his feet leaving the ground. The Portkey pulled him through a windstorm of swirling colour.

oOo

Harry's feet slammed to the ground and instincts told him to stay low. His wand was out in a second, the cup forgotten behind him. He crept slowly forward, crouched and ready to spring. The dizzying pain exploding behind his scar took him off balance, though, and Harry fell to the ground clutching his forehead. Ropes shot out of the gloom and wrapped themselves securely around his body, binding him so that no manner of escape was possible.

The pain was gone a few seconds later, but it was too late. Harry was bound and roughly dragged to a marble tombstone by a man in a dark, hooded cloak. He was tied with another set of ropes to the marble grave marker, and Harry grinned suddenly. "You're looking improved, Lestrange. At the very least, I'll have something new to cut off. Did your master give you those?"

The silver hand delivered a skull thumping backhand that was as powerful as any hammer. The coppery tang of blood rolled into his mouth. "You're useful for now, Potter, but if you push me I will kill you," Lestrange rasped.

A cold high-pitched voice called out behind him, "Leave the boy. Prepare for the ritual."

Lestrange bobbed his head several times and stood. Harry's world was swimming, the blow to his temple was certainly harder and more precise than he'd anticipated. Lestrange's white, ghostly hands were solid, if nothing else.

As the world cleared and things stopped spinning, Harry observed Lestrange depositing a small, scaly, hairless child-thing into the bottom of the largest cauldron he'd ever seen and then Lestrange began to speak. His voice was firm and full of anticipation, calling out to the night, daring it to challenge him. As Harry watched it, he felt sickly fascinated. Opportunity presented itself when Lestrange turned his back.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The grave at Harry's feet cracked and a fine trickle of dust rose into the air and fell into the cauldron. Harry wriggled just a little and changed, his four-legged form suited for escaping from the ropes which should drop uselessly as he shrank himself... no, of course it wouldn't be that easy. Harry mentally cursed himself as he felt the ropes constrict faster than he could wriggle, binding him still snugly to the stone. Lestrange's back was to him still, so Harry prayed it would work in reverse and changed back.

He breathed a sigh of relief, or as much of one as the constricting cords would allow, and settled back down, mind spinning furiously. He might be bound, but they wouldn't know his secret yet. Lestrange had taken his wand, but Harry thought it odd that he'd not been checked for any other weapon. Perhaps Voldemort made people stupid. Lestrange spoke again, his voice louder and more powerful still, as though the dark ritual he was performing was giving him strength as well. "Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master." A soft 'snick' and a grunt were all the noise that Lestrange made as he removed his left ear from his body and tossed it into the cauldron.

The man paused for a second and then walked deliberately over to Harry and pressed the same knife that he'd used to sever his own ear into the crook of Harry's arm.

Harry smiled grimly. "That isn't really sanitary," He ground out. Lestrange merely grinned and jabbed the point of the blade into Harrys arm, hard.

A quick intake of breath was all the noise our hero allowed himself to make as he watched with sick fascination as the Death Eater collected red rivulets of his life essence into a small glass vial.

Lestrange walked toward the cauldron and called out, "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!" His voice was at a fever pitch as he dropped the glass vial into the cauldron. The simmering diamond sparks the iron bowl was emitting ruined Harry's night vision, a fact for which he cursed the evil man in front of him.

As the sparks extinguished, Harry could finally begin to make out the darkness around him. Through the pitch black Harry saw an emaciated, yet tall man rose from the cauldron, Harry wished he hadn't.

"Robe me," came the high cold voice. Lestrange scrambled to obey, blood still pouring down the side of his face from his missing ear.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron and stared at Harry. A stark white skull and blood red eyes bored into Harry's green ones. A flat snakelike nose with slits for nostrils and yellowing pointy teeth made up the face that had terrified the Wizarding world for years.

Harry stared back, knowing that Lord Voldemort had risen once again. He wanted to speak, to cry out that he was not afraid and that Voldemort would die again tonight, this time permanently, but there was so very little that he could say. "You're an ugly bastard, aren't you?" was all he could manage.

_AN: Loyal readers, I hope this update makes up for the long wait on the last one. 18 is being worked on so I hope to have that one out sooner rather than later. I would like to say I appreciate every review that has been left and I have tried to respond to each. If I haven't responded to yours, I'm sorry but rest assured I'm very appreciative of every one. _


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